Star Wars Altered Universe: Episode IV
by Scott W. Ferguson
Summary: Sixteen years after Palpatine's death at the hands of Darth Vader, the Skywalker's destiny is revealed as Leia's mysterious disappearance draws Anakin and his family back into the ongoing conflict with the Empire. Romance / Action /Adventure. The sequel to AU Episode III.5.
1. Chapter 1: Mystery in the Desert, Part 1

**_Star Wars Altered Universe_**

**_Episode IV: A New Hope_**

A continuation of Scott's fantasy adaption of George Lucas's

wonderful Star Wars universe

By Scott Ferguson

Star Wars, all Star Wars characters, and the Star Wars universe

are Copyright © by George Lucas and Lucasfilms, Ltd.

**Prologue**

_It is a period of Civil War._

_The skirmishes began nearly eighteen years ago, when the fateful, first shots of the newborn rebellion were fired on Coruscant. They have grown in intensity over the years, as the ragtag band of rebels, aided by the last remaining Jedi Knights and a handful of sympathetic systems, have continued to strike back against Emperor Vader and his dark, tyrannical rule._

_Driven into hiding shortly after the start of the war by Darth Vader, it has been a long, dark nightmare for the Jedi who managed to survive Palpatine's betrayal twenty years ago. With a price on their heads great enough to lure every bounty hunter in the galaxy with the promise of instant wealth, they have found it hard enough to survive, let alone assist openly with the rebellion that could someday bring an end to the Dark Lord of the Sith's evil regime._

_It has been harder, still, for Anakin and Padmé Skywalker, as they have sought to keep their children safe from the Dark Lord's ever-watchful eyes. Once powerful Jedi Knights, they have been in hiding since the rescue of Anakin's mentor, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and their adopted niece, Shanda Lars. Knowing full well how strongly the Force is with their children, Anakin and Padmé have dedicated their lives to raising Luke and Leia, both of who are blissfully ignorant of their parent's past as Jedi Knights and leaders of the once great Republic._

_Yet, Padmé's past has returned to haunt them, somewhat, as the years have passed; their daughter, Leia, is much like her mother, with the same passion and fire for justice and democracy that placed Padmé on the throne as queen of Naboo many years ago. Keeping her safe has been a challenge, to say the least, as the headstrong young teen has grown into an even more headstrong and idealistic young woman._

_But, just like her parents, Leia leads a hidden life; while serving under Bail Organa's tutelage and attending a university on Bail's home planet of Aldeeran, she has secretly become an integral part of the tiny, struggling Rebellion, and, believing that her peaceful, loving parents would never approve, she has hidden her involvement from them and her brother, Luke._

_Yet now, it seems that her luck may have run out. The conflict has intensified, sparking skirmishes and battles throughout the quadrant, and rebel spaceships, striking from a hidden base, have won their first major victory against the evil Galactic Empire._

_During the battle, Rebel spies have captured a set of plans for the Empire's secret weapon, the Death Star, an armored space station with enough power to destroy an entire planet. If completed, the massive station will spell almost certain doom for the Rebellion._

_Persued by the Empire's sinister agents, Leia and her comrades race against time for Alderaan, custodians of the stolen plans that can save the foundering rebellion and restore freedom to the galaxy…_

* * *

><p>She'd never been so scared in her relatively young life.<p>

Her heart pounding, Leia reached out and grabbed the bulkhead, hanging on tightly as the small Correllian freighter rocked hard to her starboard side. "That was too close," she gasped, glancing back at her two companions as the ship's hull groaned beneath the massive blasts of laser fire their massive pursuer rained down on them.

She looked up, watching for a moment as three or four obviously frightened soldiers, dressed in their now familiar helmets and battle fatigues, bolted past her and down the corridor toward the aft section of the ship, their weapons raised and ready. She looked up again, listening as the freighter's engines rumbled loudly, and then fell eerily silent.

"Did you hear that?" Threepio exclaimed, waving his arms wildly in panic. "They've shut down the main reactor!" he said, shuffling close to Leia's side as Artoo rolled up beside him. "Mistress Leia, this is madness!"

"Threepio, will you please shut up! I can't hear what Artoo's trying to tell me!" Leia exclaimed; her patience with her now lifelong companion was growing thin indeed, and she turned her eyes down to Artoo as she heard him let fly with a long, eager string of beeps, whistles and clicks once more.

"Alright, fine, but hurry," Leia nodded, stepping aside as Artoo rolled past her and down one of the adjacent maintenance corridors; she paused, long enough to reach inside her gleaming white tunic and retrieve a small, silver disc. "I just hope you know where you're going," she said, following along behind her little droid as, still on the verge of panic, Threepio shuffled along behind her into the dimly lit tunnel.

* * *

><p>Jan Hensen had always known this day could come.<p>

He knelt quickly beside the corridor's archway along with his companions, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he lifted his blaster pistol and held it tightly in his trembling hands. He closed one eye as he sighted along the top of the slim, shiny barrel, training his weapon on the center of the metal blast door that led to the freighter's docking ring.

He swallowed hard, trying desperately to calm himself, as he felt his heart pounding in his chest; he could hear the hiss of the plasma torches from the other side of the blast door, as they ate through the thick carbellium structure. It was only a matter of time, he thought to himself, as he felt his weapon begin to tremble even more in his clammy, sweaty hands.

He'd heard rumors, just like his companions, about the Empire's battle-hardened forces; he'd seen them, on many occasions, but, like most of his young companions, he'd had the good fortune of engaging them only from a distance, from the relative security of an armed freighter or a speedy fighter.

But not today.

Jan glanced around quickly at his fellow crew mates, and he swallowed hard again as he saw the mixture of emotions on their faces - fear, foreboding, determination, anger - they were all there, mixed together, as they all prepared themselves for the onslaught that awaited, just beyond that doorway. Jan looked back toward the door, and he blinked as he saw the brilliant shower of hot, gold sparks and thick smoke that erupted into the corridor as the first of the plasma torches burned through. They had run out of options, he thought with despair, and he felt his heart begin to sink in his chest as he leveled his trembling weapon toward the cloud of thick smoke that billowed through the gash in the heavy blast door.

Jan jerked his head around and closed his eyes, as a brilliant flash erupted through the thick haze; temporarily blinded, he began to panic, as he heard the heavy _thunk_ as what remained of the blast door struck the corridor floor a short distance from him. He looked back toward the haze, his heart racing, blinking his eyes several times as he tried desperately to focus and aim his weapon as the brilliant orange bolts of weapons fire began to surge toward them from the milky-white haze.

He cried out and leapt back, as he saw the crewman nearest him reel backwards, screaming in agony, as one of the brilliant orange bolts ripped through his body; he looked down at his fallen crew mate, gasping quickly, as he felt the wave of panic begin to overtake him.

Jan looked up, and he opened his own mouth to cry out in despair as he brought his weapon up toward the cold, unfeeling, white-armored figure that suddenly burst through the smoke toward him. He squeezed the trigger of his weapon, firing wildly, as he watched the storm trooper raise his weapon, quite calmly, and take aim directly at him.

Those black, unfeeling eyes of that brilliant white helmet would be the last thing he would ever remember; everything else disappeared in a brilliant, orange flash, taking young Jan, in a blur of pain and terror, to whatever life waited for him beyond this one.

* * *

><p>The corridor was silent, except for the distant sound of weapons fire, as the storm troopers continued to press their assault deeper and deeper into the heart of the unfortunate ship. She looked up, as she knelt down and stepped slowly through the still smoking hole in the blast door, watching as the troopers nearest her snapped cleanly to attention; she reached behind her, wrapping her gloved hand quickly through her long black cloak, and pulled it through the opening behind her as she stepped into the corridor and stood up.<p>

The thick, black cloak she wore swirled around her boots, sending swirls of acrid smoke spinning into the stale air around her as she slowly surveyed the carnage before her. She could feel the fear that permeated the ship, even from here, as she eyed the bodies of the rebel soldiers that littered the floor of the corridor.

She had them, this time, she thought to herself, as she raised a slim hand and pulled the thick, corded hood down further over her eyes as she walked quickly down the corridor; she turned and, with the same hand, motioned silently to the troopers that stood near the doorway, and the sound of her boots mingled with theirs as they made their way, as quickly as they could, down the corridor and toward the command deck of the Corellian freighter.

The bait had been taken. Now it was just a matter of finding out whom she had caught.

* * *

><p>The corridor of the maintenance shaft was filled with acrid smoke; the little astrodroid activated his ventilation fans, doing his best to clear at least some of the foul-smelling smoke as he watched Leia cough and lift her hand to her face, and then lean down in front of him.<p>

"Mistress Leia, what are we going to do?" Threepio exclaimed; Leia closed her eyes, sighing deeply, as the tall, golden droid's panic reached a crescendo. "I told you that coming here as a bad idea," he exclaimed, turning and waving his arms frantically, his yellow eyes blinking in the dim light as he looked back down the corridor.

"They're coming, I can hear them now," he exclaimed, as Leia stood up quietly, reaching into the folds of her robe once more as she took a step closer to him. "Whatever are we going to do?" he said, turning to face her once more. "Master Anakin is going to be quite upset, if we ever see him again, and he's never going to forgive Artoo or me for allowing you to be here in the first place!"

He paused, looking down curiously at the small device Leia held in her outstretched hand. "Oh, thank goodness!" he swooned, as he watched Leia smile at him, then lift the device a bit closer to her face. "You've got a comlink! I knew that you'd find a way to…"

"Threepio, you don't know how badly I hate to do this, but…"

Without another word, Leia pressed the button on the device, then pressed it tightly against the tall, golden droid's central computer interface, right in the middle of his chest; there was a bright flash, a strong whiff of ozone, and, with a few wildly chattering bits of unintelligible words, Threepio's eyes went dark as he collapsed limply to the floor in front of her.

"I'm sorry, Artoo, I didn't want to do it, but I had no choice," Leia grunted, straining as she lifted the heavy droid into a sitting position next to the nearby bulkhead. "If the two of you were to be captured, I couldn't risk Threepio telling them everything," she said, tossing the small device she'd used to effectively wipe her old friend's memory clean as a whistle. "Dad can restore him, if we ever get him home," she sighed, turning and kneeling in front of Artoo as he rolled up beside her.

"Look after him," she said, as she pulled the small, silver disc from her robes once more. "And open up," she said; she watched, as the little droid swiveled his dome toward her, then opened the small drive bay just beneath his main optical sensor. "Whatever you do, don't lose this," she said, as Artoo took the disc, then retracted it into his drive mechanism.

"This is the most important thing you've ever done, Artoo," she said, patting the little droid, the one she'd known since her childhood, affectionately on the top of his dome. She smiled at him, then leaned forward and kissed him on the small, round radar sensor that adorned his silver and blue dome. "Get out of here, and don't let me down, okay?"

Leia looked up, alarmed, as she suddenly heard voices down the corridor; she stood up, reached into the folds of her tunic, and produced a small blaster pistol. "Go," she said, tossing the hood of her robe up over her head. "Get yourself and Threepio out of here," she said, turning and starting down the narrow, smoke filled corridor. "I'll try to buy you both some time!"

Artoo watched her, a long, forlorn whistle filling the small corridor as Leia trotted off through the smoke, and then disappeared around the corner. He waited only a moment, and then, turning and taking hold of Threepio's leg with his grappling claw, he started down the corridor toward the escape pods, dragging his old golden counterpart behind him.

* * *

><p>Leia's breath came in ragged gasps; she felt the wave of fear sweep over her, as she ducked into the small alcove, in the corner of the maintenance shaft. She closed her eyes, trying desperately to calm herself, as she leaned back against the cold, metal bulkhead and brought her blaster pistol up closer beside her face.<p>

_How did I get myself into this?_ she thought to herself, as she took several more quick, deep breaths as she tried to steel her shaken nerves. _Mom and Dad are going to kill me, if I ever manage to get out of this alive._

She wished, more than anything at this moment, that she had shared more with them, told them what was going on; now here she was, hiding in a dark corner aboard a doomed vessel, while her parents were at home on Naboo, blissfully unaware of where she was, or the danger she was in.

She wished she could see them, and talk to them, one more time; she smiled, softly, as her mother and father's smiling faces fill her troubled mind; they had always been there for her, and her life had been nothing short of blissful and happy. If she had to die, she thought to herself, at least she would do so knowing that, for the greater part of her twenty short years, she had lived a life full of love and happiness.

_No,_ Leia thought to herself, shaking her head slowly as she leaned forward carefully and glanced around the corner, watching the group of troopers that made their way slowly toward her; she wasn't ready to give up now, not yet, not without a fight. She wanted to see her parents and brother again, and, as she felt a wave of anger begin to replace the despair that had dogged her only a moment before, she felt her grip tighten around the blaster pistol in her hand.

She felt her heart jump, as she saw the lead trooper look up and stop, suddenly. "There's one," he said, gesturing toward her as he glanced back over his shoulder toward his companions. "Set for stun."

Her heart racing, Leia stepped out from the tiny alcove and leveled her blaster pistol at the trooper, watching as he quickly began to raise his rifle to his shoulder. She squeezed the trigger and watched, with a great deal of satisfaction, as the trooper cried out, reeling hard to his right and flying backwards into his companions, as the blast from her weapon struck him cleanly in the shoulder.

She turned and bolted down the corridor, as quickly as she could; she glanced back over her shoulder, watching as the troopers scrambled wildly around their fallen companion. Maybe, she thought, just maybe, she would be able to lose them in the maze of corridors that lie ahead; she turned her attention back to the hallway in front of her, and, running as quickly as she could, she bolted toward the small doorway that lead to the escape pod tube.

She felt herself cry out, quite involuntarily, as the painful, tingling blast of energy struck her squarely in the back; she fell hard onto the cold metal decking, yet she felt nothing, as the dark, inky blackness began to close in on her from everywhere.

She glanced up, struggling for one last glimpse, as she caught site of the troopers as they surrounded her. "She'll be all right," she heard one of them say, his voice tinny and hollow from beneath his white helmet.

"Inform Lord Ventress that we have a prisoner," he said, watching as the young woman struggled one last time, and then collapsed unconscious onto the cold floor beneath his boots.

* * *

><p>"There goes another one," the gunner said, tapping the control pad in front of him quickly as he locked the star destroyer's massive cannons on the tiny escape pod that rocketed out of the cargo bay into the cosmos.<p>

"Hold your fire," the deck officer replied, as he quickly surveyed the data display in front of him as the massive cannons locked onto the tiny pod. "There are no life forms," he said, looking back up and watching as the small, round pod spun slowly off toward Tatooine's thin, whispy atmosphere. "It must have short circuited."

The gunner pressed the switch on his console again, and he watched as the guns returned to their standby position.

* * *

><p>Inside the pod, the little blue and silver astrodroid swung his dome toward the nearby porthole window. He glanced over at his silent, golden counterpart for a moment, then turned his attention once again to the window, watching as the massive star destroyer, and the freighter in its belly, spun slowly into the distance as he and his unconscious companion rocketed toward the planet's atmosphere below.<p>

* * *

><p>Leia shrugged her shoulders; she winced, as she felt the wave of pain that swept through her back as her muscles cried out in pain. She halfway wished that they had just shot her; at least then the pain would be over.<p>

She glanced over her shoulder, sighing deeply, as she looked at the group of troopers that surrounded her as they escorted her down the long hallway toward the command deck. She didn't know where they were taking her, but one thing was clear; someone wanted to see her, and wanted her alive. Storm troopers weren't known for taking prisoners, and neither was the Empire.

Leia grunted in pain as the trooper behind her shoved her, quite impolitely, down the hallway toward the spot where a dark clad figure stood, talking quietly with several other Imperial officers.

She stopped, a meter or so away, watching as the tall, slender figure turned to face her. "Well, well," the tall, slender woman said, eyeing Leia warily as she stood there, ringed by troopers, before her. "What have we here?"

"Another prisoner, Lord Ventress," the trooper nearest Leia said, his tinny voice drawing a disdainful look from the young girl. "We found her in the forward section of the ship, near the escape pods."

"Trying to escape, were you?" Ventress asked, taking a step closer toward the young woman; Leia took a step back, instinctively, as the tall, slender woman glared down at her, her ghostly, pale skinned frown stirring some unknown fear deep within her, as a hateful fire glowed behind those coal black eyes.

She'd heard the stories about this woman from more than a few rebel soldiers; Leia stood there, as uncomfortable and afraid as she'd ever been, as the woman she'd come to know as _the Emperor's devil _sized her up warily. She grimaced, making little effort to hide the contempt on her young face as Ventress reached out with a slim, gaunt hand and, seizing Leia by the chin, turned her face toward her.

"You look familiar," she growled, eyeing the young girl with curious interest. "Have we met before, my dear?"

Leia said nothing; she stood there for a moment, eyes locked with the tall, pale skinned woman's, then dropped her head and her gaze toward the floor. "Oh, well, I suppose not, then," Assajj said, shrugging her shoulders as she motioned to the guard nearest Leia. "Put her with the others," she said, her dark, brooding voice devoid of emotion as she turned and started back down the corridor. "She'll talk soon enough, with the right encouragement."

Leia looked back over her shoulder, watching Ventress as she stormed off, with two Imperial officers following close behind her. She grunted again, throwing another disdainful frown to the trooper nearest her as he shoved her again, then began to lead her down the corridor.

She took a deep breath, and she felt her heart ache as her thoughts, just for a moment, drifted back to her mother and father; she wished, more than anything at this moment, that she had shared more with them, told them what was going on and what she was involved in. Now here she was, a prisoner of the Empire aboard a doomed vessel, while her parents were at home on Naboo, blissfully unaware of where she was, or the danger she was in.

She'd never felt more alone in her life.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Tatooine<em>**

_Just before the final harvest_

It was windy this morning, more so than usual. The tiny grains of wind-driven sand peppered his weathered face, as he stepped out of the doorway and into the bright sunlight; he blinked his eyes, several times, giving them a moment to adjust, as he pulled the collar of his tunic up higher on his neck.

It took longer for them to adjust than it used to, and he sighed, brushing his gray-streaked hair back over the top of his head, as he looked out across the barren, sandy landscape toward the battered workshop that stood several dozen meters from the house. The greater sun was just beginning to reach it's midmorning point, high overhead, as it's smaller counterpart rested just above the horizon.

Tatooine's eighteen daily hours of sunlight required some getting used to, for those who dared to visit this barren, dry world. He'd spent all of his life here, and his body was attuned to it; indeed, he really couldn't envision living anyplace else. Oh, he had visited the blue-green world where his brother's family lived on many occasions, and, while he found it strange, yet delightful, with its rich green foliage and crystal blue waters, this was his home. Tatooine was where he belonged, and he knew that, someday, he would rest under its rich golden sand beside his father, and grandfather, in the family cemetery out back of the old homestead.

He'd only taken a step or two toward the workshop, when he suddenly heard her familiar voice call to him. He turned around, and, pulling the door back open, looked down the stairs to where she stood waiting at the door to the main living area.

"What is it, love?" Owen called, reaching up and shielding his face with his hand as another gust of wind peppered his face with sand again.

"Are you two going to have breakfast before you leave this morning?" Beru asked, taking the stair railing tightly in her hand as she smiled up at him.

"Of course," Owen snorted, smiling down at her as he nodded his head toward the workshop. "He eats just like his father, you know that. You don't really think he'd considering going on an empty stomach, do you?"

Owen chuckled quietly to himself as he watched Beru smile up at him. "We were just checking to make sure," she said, pulling the small towel from the belt at her waist and wiping her hands. "Tell him to hurry up, then," she grinned, glancing over at the kitchen again as Owen smiled down at her. "Shanda and I should have breakfast on the table in a few minutes."

"Yes, ma'am," Owen said, nodding his head and watching his wife for a moment, as she turned and headed back toward the kitchen. He closed the door behind him and, shielding his eyes with his hand, he started across the bright, ever-shifting sand toward the workshop.

* * *

><p>"Luke?" Owen called, as he pulled the heavy, smooth metal door open and stepped inside the shop. "Are you in here?"<p>

He closed his eyes, as he reached up and brushed his fingers through his thinning hair; he could feel the rainstorm of sand that fell to the ground around him, and he opened his eyes and looked up as he heard his nephew's voice call to him from the far end of the shop.

"Over here, Uncle Owen," he heard his nephew's voice call, as he grabbed hold of his tunic and shook it hard, sending another rain of sand to the shop floor.

"Your Aunt Beru said to tell you it's almost time for breakfast," Owen grunted, as he turned around and pushed the heavy door closed again. "Your cousin's been cooking all morning," he said, shaking his tunic again as he wove his way through the maze of old equipment, vehicles, and parts that littered the workshop. "I hope you're hungry."

"Faaaaantastic," Luke said, looking up from the speeder where he worked with a grin as he watched his uncle walk over to join him. "Shanda cooks almost as good as Mom does," he sighed, standing up and stretching. Owen watched him as he grimaced a bit and leaned back hard; he'd been bending, working on the old speeder, for longer than he realized.

"How long have you been up?" Owen asked, reaching up and dusting his hand through his hair again. He looked up, watching Luke as he lurched forward and, as quickly as he could, grabbed the large rag that lay on the speeder's fender as another rain of sand cascaded down onto the speeder's fender.

"A couple of hours," Luke said, quickly tossing the rag over the speeder's air intake. "Be careful, if that sand gets in there, it'll turn to glass in a half a second when it hits the plasma injectors," he said, looking at his uncle with a frown. "I've almost got it running," he said, watching as Owen took a step back and finished dusting himself off. "I don't wanna have to take it apart again."

"Sorry," Owen said, tossing his nephew an apologetic smile. "Just be thankful I don't have as much hair as I used to," he sighed, reaching up and running his hand briskly through his thinning lochs again. "Or you'd be in real trouble."

"So you think you've about got it fixed?" Owen asked, a curious smile spreading across his weathered face as he leaned his elbows on the fender and watched, as Luke went back to work, hooking up the last of the speeder's electrical systems.

"I think so," Luke sighed, nodding his head, his straight, sandy-brown hair waving in front of his eyes as he did so. "It should start," he said, looking up at his uncle with a grin again, as he tightened the last cable into place. "Or at least I think it will."

"Well, if it does, it'll be the first time this thing's run in a while," Owen said, watching Luke as he stood up and, very carefully, closed the intake cover and fastened it into place. "It ran for, oh, almost twenty years the last time your father fixed it," he said, taking a step back as his nephew tossed the tools in his hands onto the bench beside him, "long before you were born."

"I _knew _Dad had worked on this thing," Luke said, looking back at his uncle with a wide grin. "I could tell, the minute I cracked it open."

"Well, I'm not surprised," Owen sighed, folding his arms across his chest and returning Luke's smile. "A son can usually recognize his father's handiwork," he said, watching Luke as he climbed up on the fender and hopped into the seat. "Especially when he's worked with his father as long as you have."

"Yeah, well, Dad's work is pretty easy to recognize," Luke said, as he switched on the speeder's ignition system.

"Howso?" Owen asked, quite curiously, as Luke activated the speeder's plasma heaters and waited for them to warm up.

"Because it doesn't look like anything else you've ever seen," Luke chuckled, as he reached down and placed his finger on the starter switch on the speeder's center console. "But it always works."

Owen nodded his head slowly, chuckling quietly to himself, as he watched Luke press the ignition switch; he listened, his smile widening, as he heard the speeder's turbines begin to spin, very slowly, and then suddenly sputter hard, several times, and blaze to life.

"A chip off the old block, if I've ever seen one," Owen shouted, as the speeder lifted slowly into the air as Luke revved the throttle several times and grinned back at him. "Fantastic," Owen said, as Luke cut the engines off and let the speeder settle back onto its landing pads. "We can take it out today, when we get ready to leave, for a test drive."

"Sounds good to me," Luke said with a firm nod, as he hopped quickly out of the cockpit and picked up the towel that rested on the speeder's hood. Owen walked around to the front of the speeder, as Luke wiped his hands on the towel and then tossed it back onto the bench beside his tools again.

"Come on, let's go," Owen said, nodding toward the house. "Breakfast is probably on the table already."

"And _that _sounds even better," Luke nodded, as he walked around the front of the speeder to join his uncle. He smiled up at him, as Owen pulled the door open and, placing his hand on Luke's shoulder, walked along beside him through the bright morning sunlight, as they made their way back toward the house.

* * *

><p>Luke closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, as the rich, heady smells of home-cooked food filled his nostrils; he paused for a moment, just inside the doorway to the kitchen, as he allowed the soft, whirring sounds of the food processors, and the delicious aroma of the foods they had prepared, launch a welcome assault on his senses.<p>

"There you are," he heard a familiar voice call; he opened his eyes, and he smiled as he saw his cousin Shanda's lovely face looking back at him as she walked over to the long hardwood table that sat in the corner of the small, cozy kitchen.

"We were just about ready to start without you," Shanda grinned back at him, placing the plate of fresh-baked bread on the table. "And where's my father?" she asked, standing up straight and sweeping her long, dusky-red hair back over her shoulder as Luke walked into the kitchen to join them. "He was supposed to bring you back, not disappear himself."

"He's right behind me," Luke said, nodding his head firmly as he came and stood beside his cousin; she smiled, a look of shocked surprise on her face, as he suddenly placed his arm around her shoulder and kissed her quickly on the cheek.

"Whoa," Shanda said, grinning broadly at him as he flopped down at his usual place near the end of the table and smiled up at her. "What was that for?"

"Oh, I don't know," Luke said, leaning back in his chair as Shanda laughed quietly, looking back at her mother with a puzzled smile. "I'm just in a really good mood today."

"I'll say," Beru said, shaking her head slowly as she picked up the tray of freshly prepared fruit and placed it on the table near him. "I just hate your sister wasn't here to see that," she said, handing one of the tall, cool glasses of juice she'd just poured to him.

"Thanks, Aunt Beru," Luke said, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he took the cup from her, grinning back at Shanda as she sat down beside him. "Besides, if she was here, I wouldn't have done it," he said, pausing for a moment as he took a long, thirsty swing from the glass his aunt had just handed him.

"And if you tell her I did it the next time you see her, I'll deny it," he said, laughing quietly as Shanda reached over and shoved him playfully.

"You're as bad as Uncle Anakin," she said, shaking her head as she turned and watched her father walk through the kitchen door.

"Good morning, Dad," Shanda said, as her father walked over and placed his hands on her shoulders; she smiled again, as he leaned down and kissed her, on the same cheek that Luke had kissed her on only a moment before.

"Good morning," Owen said pleasantly, patting her soundly on the shoulder as he walked around the table to his usual place, directly across from Luke. "Looks like I'm right on time," he said, smiling up at Beru as she came and sat down beside him.

"As usual," Beru said, as she picked up the pitcher of juice and handed it to her daughter.

It was the customary, unspoken signal that breakfast had officially begun, and Luke and Shanda both began to reach, with ravenous anticipation, for the various plates and trays nearest them as they started to load up their plates.

"So what are you two going to do today?" Shanda asked, glancing down the table toward her father as she placed a large spoonful of fruit on her plate.

"We thought we'd run over to Anchorhead this morning, since Luke's got the speeder running again," Owen said, his voice a bit muffled as he took a large, hungry bite of the freshly baked roll in his hand. "We need a few more transponder relays for the vaporator sensors on the east ridge," he said. "We should be able to pick those up, and be back here before lunch."

"You got the speeder running?" Shanda asked, turning a bright smile to her cousin as he grinned back at her; she giggled out loud, as she watched him shove a huge bite of one of the breakfast pastries she'd prepared earlier into his mouth.

"Mm,hmm," Luke said, chewing slowly as his older cousin shook her head and laughed at him. "Ith didn't take me asth long asth I thought."

"Swallow first," Shanda said, shaking her head and grimacing, her long, red bangs waving over her eyes as she raised her hand in front of him. "That's just gross."

"What about you?" Beru asked, turning a curious smile to her daughter as she watched her take a bite of her own breakfast. "Didn't you have plans today?"

"Yeah," Luke said, leaning forward and resting his elbow on the table as he watched her raise her eyebrow and grin back at him. "Didn't you and Paul have a hot date planned for today?"

Luke's smile widened as he watched her look down at her plate and poke at her breakfast with her fork; he could see the rosy tint darken in her cheeks. "It's just a picnic, that's all," Shanda said, as she grinned back up at him sheepishly. "It's _not_ a hot date."

"Uh, huh," Luke said, nodding his head sarcastically as he took another bite of the pastry in his hand. "Sure it is."

"If I remember right," Luke said, glancing over at his aunt curiously, "Mom and Dad's first date started out as a picnic, didn't it, Aunt Beru?"

"Don't rush her, Luke," Beru chuckled, as she and Shanda exchanged glances. "And yes, you're right," she said, watching the rosy blush in her daughter's cheeks darken another shade as she went back to her breakfast. "It was a picnic."

"I don't know what you're waiting on, anyway, Shanda," he said, leaning back in his chair as she grinned, quite bashfully, back at him. "I already told you I like him. A lot."

"Well, I'm glad you like him, Luke," Shanda said, picking up another pastry and flopping it on his plate in front of him. "And he likes you, too," she said, picking up her fork again. "But I'll handle all of this on my own timetable, thank you very much."

"Just trying to look out for my favorite cousin, that's all," he sighed, shaking his head as he picked up the pastry she'd just given him and grinned back at her. "I'm already convinced Leia's gonna be an old maid," he said, pausing as he took a bite. "Don't wanna see you end up as one, too, that's all."

Owen always enjoyed it, when Luke and Leia came to visit, right before the harvest. He enjoyed these little 'sparring sessions', he liked to call them, and he always watched, with great amusement, as Luke, Leia, and Shanda picked, prodded, and poked at one another.

It was all done in fun, he knew that; the three of them had always been close. Shanda had fallen in love with the both of them, since the first time she had held them, not long after she had joined their family about the time they were born. Even though she was almost thirteen years older than them, it had never really shown; Luke and Leia had come to visit for several weeks almost every summer, and Shanda had always looked forward to it, so much so that Obi-Wan had worked their visits into her training schedule when she was younger. It had been a welcome release for her, and even her master Obi-Wan had come to realize that a little rest and relaxation, spent among family, was a beneficial thing - even for a Jedi.

"Speaking of your sister," Owen said, glancing across the table at his nephew, "How's Leia doing these days? Is she still working with Senator Organa?"

"Oh, yeah," Luke replied, nodding firmly as he paused and took another sip from his cup. "More than ever," he sighed, resting his elbows on the table again and turning his cup slowly in his hands, as his aunt and cousin listened intently. "She was supposed to come with me, but she had something crop up at the last minute, some big, important meeting about the Senate, I don't know," he said, shaking his head as he shrugged his shoulders.

Shanda listened with rapt attention, as Luke continued to speak; she could sense the concern, and the worry, that flowed through Luke's heart as his thoughts drifted to his twin sister.

It had always been a strange situation for her, as she sensed the Force that flowed through him. Luke and Leia were both exceptionally strong with the Force, and even she had been able to sense it, when they were only babies, and she a young, yet gifted, padawan. She could still remember the conversation, as if it were yesterday, when she and Padmé had first talked about it.

"_I think he's finished, Shanda," Padmé said, placing her arm on the back of the couch behind her new, dusky-haired niece as she sat down next to her on the couch. She smiled, as she watched Shanda very gently, and somewhat nervously, pull the nipple of the small feeder in her hand from Luke's mouth, and then hand it back to Padmé._

"_Aunt Padmé," Shanda asked, looking up from Luke's tiny, sleeping body as Padmé took the now empty feeder from her, "There's something I've been wanting to ask you."_

"_What's that, Shanda?" Padmé replied, watching as Shanda settled back on the couch and cradled her son gently in her arms._

"_Why won't Luke and Leia be able to learn about the Force, like I did, as soon as they're ready?" she asked, turning her curious face back to Padmé's again. "They could grow up to be Jedi, too, just like you and Anakin," she said, looking back at Luke's sleeping face again. "Don't we need all the Jedi we can get?"_

"_It's a big, complicated problem, Shanda," Padmé sighed, turning the empty feeder over slowly in her hands as she leaned back on the couch, as Shanda looked up at her thoughtfully. "Uncle Anakin, and the rest of the Council thinks that it might be too dangerous to train them, at least right now," she said, her thoughtful brown eyes gazing back at her son as she spoke. _

"_It's hard enough for us, and for you and Obi-Wan, to hide as it is," she said, shaking her head slowly, as she watched Shanda gaze back at Luke again, as she heard him coo softly in her arms._

"_But the Force is so strong with both of them," Shanda replied, gazing quietly at the tiny baby boy in her arms. "It just seems wrong not to train them, somehow," she said, shaking her head slowly. "It sort of goes against everything I learned in the Temple when I was younger."_

_Shanda looked up at Padmé again, as she felt her hand on her shoulder. "I know, but things are a lot different now than they use to be, Shanda," she said, squeezing the young girl's shoulder gently as she spoke. "Emperor Palpatine is looking for us, as we're all in danger," she said. "We have to trust what Master Yoda, Obi-Wan, and Anakin tell us is best."_

"_I know," Shanda replied, nodding her head slowly. "I just wish I could see them learn about the Force, maybe even help with their training a little," she said, smiling back at Padmé as she spoke._

"_Well, I think Anakin and Obi-Wan both have enough to worry about as it is," Padmé said, running her hand gently along Shanda's long, red hair and brushing it back over her narrow shoulders. "They already have padawans to train," she said, her smile widening as Shanda grinned back at her. _

"_A lot of things have changed for both of us, haven't they?" Padmé sighed, looking back at her niece with a thoughtful smile. "I was a senator, not so long ago, and you were a padawan in the Jedi Temple," she said, rubbing her shoulder reassuringly again, as _

_Shanda's crystal green eyes smiled back at her._

"_They sure have," Shanda sighed, nodding her head firmly as she gazed at Luke again. _

"_Don't worry," Padmé said, nodding her head slowly as she and Shanda both gazed back at Luke's tiny sleeping body again. "They'll learn, someday," she said softly, gazing at her son affectionately as she leaned closer to Shanda's side. "As soon as it's time."_

It had been difficult for her, hiding her skills, and the fact that she was a Jedi, especially at moments like this, when she could sense the Force so strongly in him. Yet she knew that Padmé had been right, and she understood the reasons behind their decision now, since she had seen the evil that the Sith and the Empire had wrought. She still wondered, though, as her attention shifted back to Luke's voice again, when that time would come.

"It's all she does anymore," Luke continued, as they all listened intently to him. "She hasn't been home for more than a few days at a time in months," he said, turning his eyes back to Shanda's again as he spoke. "Lana really misses her."

"I don't think Lana's the only one," Shanda said softly, as she reached over and rubbed Luke's shoulder gently.

"Well, what your sister does is very important," Beru sighed, looking up from her plate and gazing thoughtfully across the table at her nephew. "Senator Organa is a good man," she continued, nodding her head slowly. "Leia's fortunate to have such an opportunity."

"I know," Luke sighed. "It just seems like, sometimes, she even forgets about Mom and Dad," he said, pausing and taking another bite of his breakfast. "They really miss her when she's gone."

"By the way, "Beru said, picking up the plate of fruit near her and handing it to Shanda, as she started to reach for it, "Did you talk to your mother last night? Did she send you those new images she promised me?"

"Yes, she did," Luke said, the smile returning to his face as he reached down and started to dig through the pockets of his pants; Beru and Shanda both perked up, quite excited, as he suddenly produced a small holographic device from his pocket and handed it to Shanda.

Luke and his uncle both exchanged a knowing glance, as they watched Shanda press the small switch on the side of the small device as Beru dropped her fork onto her plate and leaned close to her. He smiled, almost as widely as they did, as the crystal clear, three-dimensional image flashed several times, and then stabilized, floating just above the small, silver disc as it hummed softly in Shanda's outstretched palm.

"Oh, she's so beautiful," Shanda sighed, as she held the device a bit closer to her mother, so she could see it better. "She's growing up _so _fast!"

Luke nodded his head, taking another bite of his breakfast as he watched Shanda press the small slider on the side of the holograph, and switch slowly between the images his mother had sent him last night.

"She looks _so _much like Padmé," Shanda said, smiling widely as she watched Luke nod his head and grin back at her. "I can't believe she's thirteen now," she said, shaking her head slowly as she looked back at the beautiful, dark-haired girl in front of her.

"Well, she may _look _like Mom, but she _acts _like Dad," Luke chuckled, stuffing the last bite of his breakfast into his mouth and chewing contentedly. "Even more than Leia does."

"Where did you say they were taking her, for her life day celebration?" Beru asked, taking the small holograph as Shanda passed it to her.

"Theed," Luke replied with a nod, pausing as he swallowed and took another sip from his cup. "She's never been there, and she's always wanted to go. You know how much she loves history," Luke said, as he watched Shanda and Beru cycle slowly through the images of his younger sister.

"Speaking of going," Owen interjected, leaning back in his chair as he quickly polished off the last of the juice in his glass, sighing deeply as he placed it back on the table with a solid _thump, _"I think it's time you and I got going, Luke, if we're planning on being back here in time to pick up some new droids today."

"Well, hurry and go then," Beru said, looking up from the holograph in her hand and turning a disgusted look to her husband as he pushed his chair back and stood up. "I want you here when those Jawas show up," she said. "I don't have any desire to try to deal with those annoying little creatures myself."

"Don't worry," Owen said, patting her gently on the shoulder as he watched Luke finish off his juice, and then stand up to join him. "We'll be back in a couple of hours, long before they get here."

"You guys keep that," Luke said, shaking his head as Shanda started to hand the small holograph back to him. "I'll get it later, no rush," he said, reaching down and snatching a huge cluster of gandarra berries off the tray in front of him.

"Thanks for breakfast," Luke grinned, placing his glass back on the table and popping one of the plump, round berries in his mouth; he reached over and squeezed Shanda's arm, munching contentedly, as Owen walked quickly past him and headed toward the kitchen door.

"You're welcome," Shanda smiled, as she watched Luke turn and bolt out of the kitchen behind Owen. "And be careful," she called, as the two of them disappeared quickly out the kitchen door.

"You'd better be getting ready, too," Beru said, looking up from Lana's image at her daughter again. "Paul will be here in a hour or two, " she grinned, as Shanda pushed her chair back and picked up Luke's empty plate. "You don't want to keep him waiting."

Beru watched Shanda quietly for a long moment, as she started to clear away the empty breakfast dishes. She sighed, quite contentedly, and then turned her attention back to the holograph in her hand, as she took another bite of her breakfast.

* * *

><p><em>Our story continues shortly!...<em>


	2. Chapter 2: Mystery in the Desert, Part 2

**_Naboo_**

_The capitol city of Theed_

The bright morning sunlight cast a rainbow of ever-changing colors onto the smooth granite walkway that circled the fountain; the rays of Naboo's golden, autumn sun shone through the mist as the countless streams of water cascaded down into the massive, ornamental pool at its base, filling the crisp morning air with its relaxing, melodic sound.

"Hurry, Mother," the dark-haired young girl called over her shoulder, her bright, green eyes sparkling excitedly as she paused near the massive, ornately carved fountain. "What's taking you and Daddy so long?"

"Calm down, Lana," Padmé laughed, shaking her head as she and Anakin exchanged a grin. "We're almost there," she said, placing her hand on her daughter's shoulder, as the two of them trotted up to join her by the fountain. "The Royal Palace has been here for nearly five hundred years, sweetheart," she said, as she brushed her daughter's long, dark hair over her shoulder and smoothed it with her gloved hand. "I don't think it's going to go anywhere."

"At least not today," Anakin chuckled, his breath fogging, quite heavily, in the cool autumn air as he pulled his jacket a little tighter around him and tucked his hands deeply into his pockets. He smiled, as he saw his youngest daughter's face beaming up at him excitedly. "I called ahead, and told them not to tear it down until you got to see it today."

Lana laughed out loud, tossing her father a sarcastic smile as she shook her head firmly. "Oh, Daddy, don't even joke about that," she said, taking her mother's hand and squeezing it tightly as she turned and looked up at the majestic, massive palace that stood only a short distance from them, and the wide marble stairs that led up to its entrance. "Do you know how much history is here, and the things that happened inside these walls?" she said, looking back up at her father with a wondrous smile.

"Well, I have an idea or two," Anakin said with a nod, as he and Padmé exchanged a quick, knowing glance. "But I'm sure I don't know anywhere near as much as you do."

"Please, let's hurry," she said, turning and tugging her mother's arm, looking up at her with a pleading, happy smile. "I want to see every part of it."

"Well, go on ahead, then," Anakin grinned, taking his hand from his pocket and gesturing toward the palace. "Wait for us at the top of the stairs," he called, as he watched his daughter smile widely, and then turn and run toward the palace. "We'll be right behind you."

"I don't think I've _ever _seen her this excited," Padmé said, looking up at Anakin with a smile almost as bright as Lana's, as she took Anakin's hand and squeezed it tightly. "You don't think she's enjoying this at all, do you?"

"No, I don't think so, not one bit," Anakin said dryly, chuckling quietly to himself as he watched her fondly, as she trotted up the massive marble stairs, her long brown hair bouncing around the shoulders of her dusty-white coat as she ran.

Anakin looked back at Padmé, as he sensed the heady mixture of emotions that flowed through her heart, and back to him, through the Force. "You okay, Angel?" he asked quietly, squeezing her hand gently as he watched her stand very still and look silently at the ornately carved building in front of her.

"Yes, I'm fine," Padmé sighed, the smile returning to her face after a moment's pause as she looked back at him. "I guess I just slipped into the past for a moment, there."

"Come on, we'd better catch up with our little historian," Anakin said, smiling fondly at his wife as he watched the sunlight glint off of the silver highlights in her rich, brown hair. "Before she starts yelling for us again."

Padmé shook her head and laughed, glancing back at the palace steps as she suddenly heard Lana's voice call to her. "Like that?" she said, slipping her arm around her husband's waist as they started toward the massive, marble stairs, where Lana waited for them.

* * *

><p>"It's amazing, isn't it, Mother?" Lana said, clutching the small data pad in her hands tightly to her chest; she shook her head slowly as she looked up at the large, glass display that adorned the towering marble wall in front of her.<p>

Padmé smiled, as she saw the look of pure wonder in her youngest daughter's eyes as she walked up beside her. "Yes, it is," she sighed, as she turned her own attention to the array of ornate, elegant attire on display inside the case, behind the thick, heavy glass.

"The queen used to wear outfits like these, whenever she attended any type of official function in the palace," Lana said, her voice laced with a sense of awe and wonder as she looked at the dazzling array of incredibly ornate headdresses and gowns in front of her.

Padmé slowly folded her arms across her chest, as she took a long, thoughtful breath. "Not just in the palace," she said quietly, a deeply thoughtful look on her face as she surveyed the display as she stood at her daughter's side; she seemed, for a moment, to be lost in time.

"She wore them to the Senate, and when she went on diplomatic visits," Padmé said, as Lana gazed up at her quietly, listening intently to her calm, soothing voice. "Anytime that she was officially executing the duties of her office."

Padmé gazed at her daughter fondly, as she watched her turn her attention back to the display. "Wow," Lana sighed, shaking her head slowly. "Can you imagine how long it would have taken to put one of these on?" she said, gesturing toward the large, crimson colored headdress that rested on a small stand on the shelf in front of her, just behind the glass, as she smiled back at her mother.

Padmé closed her eyes for a moment, as her thoughts drifted away again, to a moment in the past, long, long ago. "Hmm," she mused, laughing softly as she opened her deep brown eyes again. "It would take a while, and that's one of the reasons she had so many handmaidens," she said. "They weren't just to protect her, and they weren't just her advisors," she said, turning her eyes back to Lana's again. "They were there to help her, too."

"I didn't know you knew so much about Naboo royal protocol," Lana said, looking at her mother with a curious smile. "I thought Leia was the only other history buff in our family."

"Oh, I know a thing or two," Padmé sighed, nodding her head slowly as she looked back at the display for a moment. "Besides," she said, a sly grin spreading across her face as her eyes met Lana's again. "Who do you think Leia learned about all this from?"

"Senator Organa, of course," Lana said, grinning almost as slyly as her mother, as she watched her cock her head and look back at her.

"Right," Padmé replied, quite sarcastically, nodding her head slowly as she watched her daughter's green eyes sparkle, quite mischievously, as she smiled up at her. "You're almost as funny as your father," she said, as she watched Lana laugh at her and begin to scroll through the information on the data pad in her hands.

Padmé turned around, in concert with her daughter, as they suddenly heard Anakin's familiar voice echo through the tall, spacious marble hallway. "Over here," she called, raising her hand and waving at him, as she suddenly saw him appear in the tall marble archway a short distance from them. She smiled, as she watched him slide to a stop, and then turn on his heels and start through the doorway toward them.

"_There_ you are," Anakin said, looking up at both of them as he carefully carried the two steaming cups in his hands. "I turn around for a minute, and you're both gone," he said with a grin, as he offered one of the cups to Padmé, very carefully. "You were down by the holopads a minute ago. How'd you get up here so fast?"

"Your daughter drug me," Padmé laughed, as she took the cup he offered her, as Lana smiled, somewhat apologetically, at her. "We had to get up here, as fast as we could."

"Careful," Anakin said, jumping a bit as he quickly shook a drop or two of the hot liquid from his hand; Padmé giggled at him, quietly, as she watched him grimace painfully, and then rub his hand gingerly on his pants. "Yow, that's hot."

"Good," Padmé said, watching him as he exchanged the remaining cup in his hand for the data pad in Lana's. "It's cold in here," she said, pausing as she lifted the hot, steaming beverage to her lips and took a careful sip.

"Why don't they heat the building anymore, Mother?" Lana asked curiously, as she took a careful sip from her own cup.

"I don't really know, Lana," Padmé sighed, shrugging her shoulders as she shook her head slowly and looked around the spacious, marble room where they stood. It was cold, she thought to herself, as she felt another cool chill nip at her spine; it looked the same, but, just like so many things, it was different now, much more so than it was when she used to call this place home.

She and Lana both looked back at Anakin, watching as he tucked his hands back into his jacket pockets again. "They haven't really used it much anymore, since the Empire passed the Simplification Pact, not long after you were born," Anakin said. "I guess, since it's really just a historical archive, now," he sighed, looking up and surveying the ornately carved ceiling above them, "they don't feel like they need too anymore."

"I wish things were like they used to be," Lana sighed, as she looked back at the elaborate gowns, headdresses, and other items that rested a short distance from her. "The way they were before the Empire."

Padmé and Anakin both looked at each other quietly, for a long moment; he could sense the pain, feel the remorse, that flowed to him from his wife's heart at she gazed up quietly into his eyes, and then slowly turned her attention back to their daughter again.

He had known that this would be a painful experience for Padmé, yet she had insisted that they come. Lana had wanted to come here for years, and she deserved to know as much about the past as they could teach her, Padmé had told him, even if they couldn't share their own past with her.

It had been hard enough on both of them, concealing their past from their children, even _if _it had been for their own protection. They had both longed, many times, to tell them everything they knew about what had happened to the old Republic, and what may be to come, as they had watched their children grow up in the shadow of the Empire.

They both watched Lana quietly, as she sipped slowly and thoughtfully from the cup in her hands. Anakin placed his arm reassuringly around Padmé's shoulders, as they watched their daughter silently study the history that rested, only inches from her, behind the thick, heavy glass. "It's so close," she finally said, very quietly, as she placed her fingers gently on the thick glass in front of her.

Padmé looked up at Anakin again, her heart silently reaching out to his, as she heard Lana's soft, quiet voice again. "I wish I could touch it," she sighed, as she gazed at the symbols of her planet's history, remnants of the Republic that once was, as they rested just inches from her. "Just a little bit."

"Hey," Anakin said, as cheerily as he could, reaching over and placing his hand on Lana's shoulder. "No long faces, either of you. This is a life day celebration, remember?" he said, shaking his head as he pulled his teenage daughter close to his side, hugging her tightly.

Padmé placed her arm tightly around his waist; she smiled up at him, watching him as he looked fondly Lana as he turned them around slowly, his arms resting on their shoulders, and led them toward the towering archway ahead of them.

"Have you seen the ceremonial gardens yet?" he asked, his own face brightening as he saw the excited smile return to his daughter's face. "Mister Que'donda, the guy who got us these passes, said that this was the perfect time to see them."

They walked slowly through the towering marble hallways, talking quietly amongst themselves, as they made their way toward the exit to the bright sunlight that shone beyond, through the shadows and echoes of the Republic that existed long ago.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Tatooine<strong>_

_The open desert area known as the Jundland Wastes_

The greater sun shone down, in all its merciless fury, onto the ever-shifting, golden sands. See-Threepio cast his electronic eyes downward, watching as the sand sprayed out in front of him as he shuffled up to the top of the dune.

He paused, looking out through the endless rays of heat that rose from the sand, surveying the barren landscape before them. It seemed to go on forever, a sea of gold, the sands lapping up like waves on the ocean against the rust colored mesas and buttes that rose into the orange-tinged sky.

He turned slightly, looking behind him as the little blue and white astrodroid rolled up the hill and stopped alongside him. As Artoo-Deetoo swung his silver dome and sensors toward his companion, Threepio looked back out over the endless expanse that lay before them.

"How did we get into this mess?" he sighed, quite dejectedly. "I really don't know how," he said, shaking his head. "For that matter, I really can't seem to remember much of anything since that crash," he wailed, glancing back over toward the horizon where they'd come from. The last thing he remembered, in his confused, befuddled mind, was coming to in what remained of that small escape pod, with the little astrodroid staring down at him. Had it not been for the digital imprint that told him that Artoo was his counterpart, he'd not have known him from any other droid. "We seem to be made to suffer," he sighed, turning his attention back to the sand as he shuffled along through it for another few steps. "It's our lot in life."

He glanced back at his little companion once more, his yellow eyes blinking as Artoo whistled and clicked for a long moment. "No, I can't go on. I've got to rest before I fall apart," Threepio answered, listening with a great deal of trepidation as he flexed his arms, hearing – and feeling – the sand that now filled his joints. "My joints are almost frozen."

"What a desolate place this is," Threepio lamented, surveying the endless dunes once more. He turned again, as he heard Artoo suddenly respond with a rather testy array of whistles and clicks, then swivel on his wheels and begin to roll off toward a large, jagged outcropping that rose from the sand in the distance.

"Wait a minute," Threepio called, shuffling along behind him a step or two. "Where are you going?"

The tall, golden droid stopped just behind him; he snapped up straight, eyeing the massive outcropping warily as another string of electronic speech poured out of his little friend. "What makes you think there are settlements over there?" he asked, turning his yellow eyes back to Artoo once more.

The array of boops, blips and beeps only seemed to aggravate him. "Don't get technical with me," he snapped, rather testily as he shook his head. "Besides, I'm not going that way. It's much too rocky," he said, turning and gesturing toward the open sand behind him. "This way is _much _easier."

Threepio snapped up straight one more, openly surprised at the rathersnippy answer he received from the little astrodroid. "What mission?" he snapped, taking a somewhat angry step toward Artoo as he glowered down at him. "What are you talking about? You know, I've just about had enough of you! Go that way," he exclaimed, gesturing toward the rocks as he gave Artoo a good, swift kick for good measure. "You'll be malfunctioning within a day, you nearsighted little scrap pile!"

Artoo swung his sensors around, watching as Threepio suddenly turned and stalked off toward the open sand. "And don't let me catch you following me, begging for help," Threepio called testily. "Because you _won't _get it!"

Artoo watched him for a long moment, as he stalked off through the sand, his servos whining rhythmically in the silent, open desert. He swung his dome back toward the rocks and, after a moment, looked back to his old counterpart, a loud string of whistles and clicks echoing over the open sand.

"No more adventures!" Threepio called, turning only long enough to wave his arms in disgust. "I'm not going that way," he called, and, without so much as a wave goodbye, turned and continued to make his way out into the endless sea of sand.

Artoo whistled, low and forlornly and then -feeling very, very small -began to roll slowly through the sand, toward whatever awaited him in the hills beyond.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Naboo<strong>_

Theed truly was a beautiful city.

She had spent so much of her life here, and, during those years, she had grown accustomed to its beauty and grace. The city had been built to exist in harmony with the landscape around it, and everywhere, the influences of natural forms and shapes could be seen in the buildings that lined its foliage-lined streets, as the natural browns and greens blended in with the landscape on which it was built.

Yet now, as she stood on the edge of the city's bustling commercial district with her husband and daughter, it all seemed new. She felt young again; younger than she had in a long time, though she would have admitted that she never really knew what it was like to feel old, anyway. It was moments like these, she thought to herself, as she looked up at Anakin with a smile, that kept them young; the years may have passed, but their love for each other felt as new and vibrant as it had on the day that they were married.

Anakin had changed in many ways, as the years had passed, from the eager, somewhat angry young padawan that she had first seen again, standing at his master's side, that day on Coruscant. She had watched, with a deep sense of pride and contentment, as he had grown into a powerful Jedi Knight, and, even though she had spent many years at his side as a Jedi herself, she was continually amazed and awed by the extent of his powers and abilities.

Yoda had told her many times that those who sought power for their own gain would never receive it, or be able to keep it. She had seen that lesson proven true in her husband's life, and she had taken it to heart in her own. Anakin's thoughts and wishes were only for her, and for his children, and, the more selfless he had become, the more the Force had imparted to him. He was a powerful Jedi, patient and wise, Obi-Wan had told her, on many occasions, a man far wiser that his youthful appearance and relatively tender years, in the grand scheme of the Force, would have let on.

Yet, beneath his power, and his wisdom, the boy that she had known so many years ago still existed, in many ways, more than ever. He was still Anakin, playful and adventurous, and it was the little boy inside him, that little boy that she loved, who had brought them here now, to this busy intersection, on this beautiful sunny day.

Padmé took a deep, contented breath, as they stopped at the edge of the busy street, waiting for the stream of speeders and transports to clear. She looked up at Anakin, a curious smile on her face, as the three of them stood in the bright midday sunshine on the edge of the busy, bustling street.

"Where are we going, Daddy?" Lana asked, as she glanced around excitedly at the bright, busy commercial center, adjacent to the old royal palace.

"I told you, to eat," Anakin said, a mischievous smile on his face as Padmé and Lana exchanged a curious glance. He tugged both of their hands firmly, as the traffic cleared for a moment. "Come on, we're almost there," he said, as they started toward the small café across the way.

"Anakin," Padmé said, looking up at her husband with a puzzled smile as she squeezed his hand tightly, "Why won't you tell me what you're up to? I thought all the surprises were supposed to be for Lana today," she said, glancing over at her daughter as she walked close beside him. "Not for me."

"It's a surprise for both of you," Anakin said, as they stepped off the street and onto the sidewalk. They paused for a moment, and Lana smiled as she watched her father lean over and kiss her mother tenderly on the cheek; if there was one thing in life that she was sure of, it was how much her parents loved each other, and it warmed her young heart every time she saw them together like this.

"Now come on," Anakin said, his own face beaming brightly as he tugged them up to the front of the small café and opened the door. "I'm hungry. Let's eat."

* * *

><p>The sights and smells that filled the small, cheery café filled her senses, almost as completely as they did the small, quaint building itself, as Lana turned around slowly, taking in the assault on her senses with a rapturous lust, as she followed her mother and father to the small kiosk just inside the café's entrance.<p>

"Hello, Mister Skywalker," the cheerful young woman said as she smiled up at them, instantly recognizing Anakin's face. "You're right on time," she said, as Padmé squeezed his arm tightly, giving him another curious smile as she looked up at him.

"If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your table," she said, gesturing toward the hallway that led to the back of the café. "Right this way, please."

"Thank you," Anakin smiled, as he nudged Lana along after her, nodding his head toward the young waitress. "Well, go on," he said, as he saw the curious, puzzled smile on her face as she reached up and brushed her long, dark hair behind her ear. "She said follow her, so follow."

"Anakin Skywalker, what are you up to?" Padmé said, squeezing his arm again as she held tightly to it, watching him grin sheepishly at her, as they followed along behind their daughter. "And how does that girl know who you are?" she asked, as he chuckled quietly to himself. "We've never even been here before."

"I meet a lot of people, in the line of work I'm in, you know that," he replied with a grin, as he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Guyton recommended this place, so I called ahead. She must have recognized me from the holograph, when I made our reservations."

"Recognized you, and remembered your name out of the hundreds she probably sees every day," Padmé said, a sly smirk on her lips as her brown eyes twinkled up at him. "I'm not buying it," she said, shaking her head firmly.

"Of course you're not," Padmé heard a familiar voice call, just ahead of them. "You always knew a con man when you heard one."

She turned around, quickly, freezing in her steps as she saw the familiar face that smiled back at her, as the woman stepped quietly into the doorway of one of the adjacent rooms, her arms folded across her chest as she leaned against the doorframe.

Anakin laughed quietly to himself, tucking his hands in his pockets again as he saw the look of shocked surprise on Padmé's face, as she stared in happy disbelief at her sister as she walked up to her and hugged her tightly.

"Sola!" Padmé laughed, her eyes welling up with happy tears as she flung her arms around her sister's neck. "What… what are you doing here?"

"You didn't really think I'd miss Lana's life day celebration did you?" Sola laughed, smiling brightly as she released Padmé, and then caught Lana in her arms as she leapt past her mother and hugged her tightly.

"Aunt Sola!" Lana exclaimed, as she hugged her tightly. "Oh, I'm so happy to see you! What are you doing here?"

"It's your life day, silly, your thirteenth one," Sola replied, as she and Anakin exchanged smiles. "Your father arranged it. We weren't about to miss this party."

"We?" Lana asked, as she and her mother exchanged glances again. "Who else is here?"

"See for yourself," Anakin said, smiling at his daughter fondly as he nodded toward the doorway behind Sola; Padmé glanced back at him, and he laughed again, as Lana took her hand and drug her toward the door.

It wasn't often that he managed to catch Padmé by surprise. Indeed, as the years had passed, and her Force abilities had increased, he had found it nearly impossible to do so. Moments like this, he thought to himself, were priceless indeed, and he laughed again as he watched her shake her head and stick her tongue out at him; he knew that she was fully aware of how much he was enjoying this.

Padmé turned around, as Lana drug her through the doorway and literally squealed with delight; she lifted her hands to her mouth, gazing through a happy haze of tears, as she saw the small group that stood around the large, round table.

It had been a long time since they had all been together, but no more; Ryoo, Pooja, Darred – they were all here, and as Lana talked and laughed excitedly with her cousins, she shook her head slowly in disbelief, her hands still cupped over her mouth, as she watched her mother and father walk up to her, as Anakin came and stood close by her side.

"Oh, now, don't start crying," Jobal said, as she reached out and rubbed Padmé's shoulders. "If you start, I'll start…"

"And Sola will start, and then Pooja, and on and on and on," Anakin laughed, as Padmé quietly wrapped her arms around her mother's neck; he and Ruwee exchanged a grin, as they both saw the tear that trickled slowly down Padmé's cheek.

"It's hopeless," Anakin sighed, as he took a step forward and embraced his father-in-law. "How ya doing, Dad?" he asked, as Ruwee slapped him soundly on the shoulder. "You're looking good, a little grayer than last time, though," he said, as he saw the light just above them shine off of his thick, silver hair.

"Gray's all I've got left, boy," Ruwee replied, as he surveyed Anakin's own hair with a critical eye. "Looks to me like you're getting your fair share of it, too," he grinned, as he watched Anakin reach up and run his fingers through his own silver-streaked, shaggy mane.

"I guess so," he sighed. "I'll be forty-one years old next month," he said, with a grin almost as wide as Ruwee's. "I guess it's about time."

"Well, he still acts like he did when I married him," Padmé said, as she reached up and wiped away the tears that stood on her cheeks. "He just looks older, he doesn't act it."

"Well, that's a good thing," Ruwee chuckled, as Padmé embraced him warmly and kissed him on the cheek. "You're only as old as you feel, and besides, you wouldn't have him any other way."

"No, I wouldn't," Padmé sighed, sniffing hard and taking a long, deep breath as she gazed at her parents fondly. "Oh, it's so good to see you both. I don't know how you all managed to do this, or when you planned it," she said, "but this is the nicest surprise I've had in a long time, and it's not even my day."

"You can thank your husband for that," Jobal said; she and Ruwee exchanged a smile, as they watched her wrap her arms tightly around Anakin's neck and kiss him, long and tenderly.

"Thank you, Ani," she whispered, as she pressed her cheek tight against his as their lips finally parted. "I love you so much."

Padmé smiled, giggling quietly to herself, as she suddenly heard his heart speak to hers, as clearly as ever.

_I love you too, Angel._

"Hey, what's all this blubbering going on over here?" Sola said, as she walked up to join them. "This is supposed to be a celebration," she said, watching as Padmé turned her smiling face toward her, as she still clung tightly to Anakin.

"You're right," Padmé said, nodding her head firmly, reaching up and wiping away the last of the tears that stood on her cheek. "And we've got a lot to celebrate," she said, as she looked at all of them for a long moment. "So let's get to it."

Anakin sighed, deeply and contentedly, as he sensed the love and contentment that flowed through the Force around him. He watched quietly, tucking his hands back into his pockets again, as his family laughed and chattered happily amongst themselves, as they all began to take their places around the large round table. If only Luke and Leia were here, he thought to himself, then this moment would be perfect indeed; yet he knew, in his heart, that they were getting older, and would soon have lives of their own, though he still didn't know, any more than he did eighteen years ago, where the Force would guide them.

But guide them it would, of that much he was certain. He closed his eyes, for just a moment, as he sensed the faint, troubling tremor in the Force, the same one he had sensed for several days now, as he stretched out his feelings toward his twins.

There it was again, faint and almost undetectable; indeed, were it not for his strength and oneness with the Force, he would have missed it, but so strong was his love for his children that it cried out to him, even through the peace and contentment around him, like a loud cry on a quiet, moonless night.

It was Leia. He was sure of it.

Anakin looked back up, drawn from his thoughts, as he heard Lana's voice call to him. "Come on, Daddy," she said, her face beaming brightly as she patted the chair next to her. "I thought you were hungry."

"Yes, ma'am, I am," Anakin smiled, and, pushing the shrouded, troubling image from his mind, he walked quickly across the room and took a seat next to his daughter.

He closed his eyes, as he suddenly felt Lana's arms around his neck, as she leaned up and kissed him warmly on the cheek. "Thank you, Daddy," she said softly, her eyes twinkling brightly as their eyes met for a quiet moment. "This is the best gift you could have ever given me."

Padmé watched them both fondly, from her seat next to Anakin, as she sensed the powerful wave of emotions that flowed through Anakin's heart. "Happy life day, Princess," he said quietly, as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her tightly.

"It's time for a toast," Darred said loudly, as he rapped the rim of the tall, thin glass of wine in front of him with his knife. "And, seeing that my niece is thirteen years old now, I think she should join us," he said, smiling slyly at Padmé as Sola nodded, and passed her an extra glass of wine. "What do you say, mom?"

"Oh, why not?" Padmé sighed, as she handed the glass to Lana, as they all picked up their glasses.

"To Lana," Darred said, as they all watched her brightly smiling, lovely face begin to turn a light shade of pink as she giggled quietly, holding her glass tightly in her hand. "A glorious life day, and many, many more," he said, touching his glass to Sola's with a clear, crystal clink.

"Many more indeed," Anakin said, touching his glass to Lana's, as the sound of clinking crystal traveled around the table.

As the café staff began to bring in the trays of food and drinks, the celebration shifted into full gear.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Tatooine<em>**

If he could have sighed, he would have done so; he had no idea where he was, or where they were going.

The busy, chattering little creatures hadn't told him much, of anything, at least nothing he could understand, when they had picked him up in the desert a few hours earlier. The strange, peculiar dialect that the hooded, yellow-eyed creatures used wasn't one of the over six million that he understood, and he had found the situation a little unnerving, even more so than the predicament that they had rescued him from.

Or at least he _assumed _that they had rescued him; Threepio looked around at the dozens of droids that, like him, sat quietly or meandered slowly about in the gloomy cargo hold, deep in the belly of the massive transport, as the sound of its engines rumbled through the air around them. He looked down at his chest plate, at the shiny new restraining bolt they had fitted him with, shortly after they had found him. Whatever it was they wanted, they wanted to make sure that he couldn't run away. He was a captive now, and he felt lost and alone, more so than he could remember feeling in a long, long time.

Or at least, he _thought_ he could remember. He glanced down at his chest plate, and his arms again, waving them slowly as he examined them closely, and then turned his electronic eyes back to the restraining bolt again.

He looked old, and somewhat worn, he thought to himself, as he surveyed the scratches and blemishes on his gold-hued coverings, and saw the smoothly worn edges, where his joints caused the plates to rub against one another. Were he asked to venture a guess to his age, and how long he had been in service, he would have guessed somewhere in the neighborhood of a quarter century, judging from his outward appearance.

It was that discrepancy that unnerved him, as he leaned back against the bulkhead behind him, and accessed his memory banks again. Just as his outward appearance suggested, his own internal clock, the deep-seated algorithm that calculated his age from the decay rate of his internal power cell, indicated that he was older than even his appearance suggested.

Where, then, he thought, as he watched a large, bulky storage droid meander slowly past him, were the memories that should be there? If he was indeed as old as his power cell indicated, then he should have memories to corroborate his age; yet there was nothing, only the jumbled, confusing images of the last several hours, and before them – nothing.

Threepio looked up, blinking his electronic eyes several times, as he heard a familiar sound a short distance from him. He sat up, a glimmer of hope penetrating the deep melancholy he had found himself in a moment before, as he heard the sound again, a series of faint whistles, that echoed through the cargo hold around him.

"Artoo?" he said, standing up from the bench near the transport's bulkhead where he had been sitting, as he watched the small, shadowy figure roll toward him in the dreary, dim light.

Threepio felt a wave of relief sweep over him, as he suddenly saw the familiar, blue and white droid roll into the light, as a loud, excited whistle broke the dreary din around them.

"Artoo Deetoo, it is you, it is you!" he exclaimed excitedly, as he rapped his little friend affectionately on the top of his sensor dome.

Artoo's excited whistled and clicks continued to fill the air around them, as the transport continued to roll, slowly and methodically, across the hot, barren sands.

* * *

><p>Luke pulled back on the speeder's throttle, as they made their way along the busy, bustling street into Anchorhead's main business district. He narrowed his eyes in the bright, morning sunlight, shielding them with his hand as he quickly scanned the throngs of people and creatures that milled about the central square.<p>

He thoroughly enjoyed these trips into Anchorhead with his uncle during the harvest. Anchorhead was so different from their home on Naboo, and he thoroughly enjoyed the wide, varied mix of creatures and beings that were to be found on this arid, desert planet. There was never a dull moment, he was fond of saying, when he would talk with his mother and father about it, when he'd return home. He hoped, very much so, that today would be no exception.

"Here, put these on," Owen said, as Luke turned and looked at the dark-tinted glasses he offered him. "You'll have a terror of a headache this afternoon if you don't use them, just like last time you were here, remember?" Owen said, as Luke took the glasses from him and slipped them on his face.

"Thanks, Uncle Owen," he said, placing his hand back on the throttle controls as he steered the speeder quickly up the side of one of the larger buildings. He cut the engines and then, taking hold of the window frame above him, he climbed quickly out and stepped onto the coarse, hot sand, turning and watching as Owen did the same.

"The speeder ran great," Luke said, quickly surveying the dusty old transport and nodding his head approvingly. "I think she'll get you back and forth without any problems now."

"Yes, indeed," Owen replied, reaching into the compartment in front of the passenger's seat and pulling out the small pouch he'd tucked there earlier. "She's good as new, thanks to you," he said, looking back at his nephew with a smile as he bounced the small leather pouch full of credits in his hand.

"Hey," Luke said, gesturing toward the small tavern across the busy road. "The tavern's open early today," he said, looking back at his uncle with a grin. "I wonder if any of the guys are there yet?"

"Why don't you go check and see?" Owen replied, patting Luke firmly on the shoulder. "I can go get the parts we need, and I'll catch up with you when I'm done."

"Are you sure?" Luke asked, watching as Owen nodded his head firmly.

"Sure, go ahead," Owen said, gesturing toward the noisy, busy tavern. "You only get to see them a couple of times a year. Just don't drink anything too strong this early in the morning," Owen said, smiling slyly at his nephew as he started to head back across the wide, dusty street. "I'll never hear the end of it if I bring you home drunk at this hour of the day."

"Don't worry," Luke called after him; he tucked his hands into his pockets as he watched his uncle for a long moment, as he walked into the busy, bustling crowds. He turned around, watching with amusement as a small group of Jawas struggled with the huge dewback near him for a moment, and then turned and trotted quickly across the dusty street, as the wind toss the worn, wooden sign that hung just above the tavern's door back and forth on its squeaky, metal hinges.

* * *

><p>"Well, bless me," Biggs said, elbowing the tall, dark haired young man next to him as he gestured toward the door, "Look who's here to join the party!"<p>

"Luke!" Deak exclaimed, watching their sandy haired friend as he grinned widely and trotted up to the bar where they sat. "We were wondering if you were still here. Come on up and have a seat," he said, sliding his own barstool back a bit and making room for their friend.

"What makes you think I'd be seen in public with you guys?" Luke laughed, as he slapped them both soundly on their shoulders as he flopped down on the barstool between them.

"Nothing ever stopped you before," Biggs replied, as he waved his hand to the tall, slender droid that stood behind the bar. "One more ale, Zing, for ol' Skywalker here," he called, slapping the smooth, well-worn bar directly in front of Luke. "Put it on my tab."

"Okee dokee," the droid replied, as it picked up a glass and rolled over toward the line of kegs that stood along the wall behind the bar.

"Well, if you're buying, then count me in," Luke said, as he folded his arms on the bar in front of him, grinning widely at his friends. "What are we celebrating today, anyway?"

"Don't tell me you haven't heard," Deak said, shaking his head slowly in disbelief. "News really _doesn't_ travel out to that godforsaken moisture farm where your uncle lives, does it?"

"No, it doesn't, you know that," Luke replied, turning his curious eyes back toward Biggs as Deak gestured toward him; he smiled, puzzled, as he watched Biggs sit up straight and proud as he looked at him.

"Tell him, Biggs," Deak said, pausing as he took a long swig from the dark gold beverage in his hand. "You know you're dying to anyway."

"Tell me what, Biggs?" Luke asked, shaking his head slowly, a curious smile on his face; he glanced back over at the droid behind the bar, as it rolled up and placed a fresh glass of ale on the counter in front of him. "Thanks," he said, as he watched the droid roll away.

"That's Ensign Biggs to you, commoner," Biggs replied, watching as Luke picked up the glass and took a long, thirsty draught, and then looked back at him, curiously, as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"Ensign?" Luke replied, a surprised smile spreading across his face as he watched his friend smile back at him. "The Academy?"

"Yes, sir," Deak replied, nodding his head firmly. "Our buddy here is on the official rookie roster, as of yesterday," he said, as he raised his glass in salute. "God help the Academy."

"Very funny," Biggs snorted, as he paused and took a drink from his own glass. "I'll be sure to tell them we can use your crusty old ship for target practice, if anyone asks," he said, as he grinned back at Luke again.

"I can't believe it," Luke said, shaking his head as he watched Biggs reach into his pocket and pull out the small insignia pin he'd received the day before and hand it to him. "You really did it," he said, as he examined the pin closely, turning it over slowly in his fingers. "You're really going to be a pilot."

"Well, they need all the pilots they can get," Biggs sighed, nodding his head slowly as Luke handed the pin back to him. "Almost every seasoned pilot they have has been assigned already," he said, as he tucked the pin back into his shirt pocket. "The Rebellion's tapping every resource they have."

"You don't really think they'd assign you to the front lines, do you?" Luke asked, his expression growing much more serious as he watched his friend shrug his shoulders.

"Who knows?" Biggs said, as he watched Luke and Deak look at each other for a moment. "I hope they do," he snorted, as he took another sip from his glass. "I wouldn't mind taking a few shots at some of those Imperial ships myself."

"Ah, there's no way they'll assign you to the fighter squads," Luke said, shaking his head firmly. "Besides, the war'll never make it out this far, anyway," he said. "The really serious fighting is going on near the central systems. This planet's about the farthest thing from the center of the universe you're gonna find."

"Don't worry, Luke," Biggs laughed, slapping his friend firmly on the back. "I'm sure your aunt and uncle are safe out here. There's nothing here that the Empire would want, anyway," he grinned, as he glanced out toward the golden, dusty street beyond the door. "Unless they need a lot of sand."

"Speaking of needs," Deak said, smiling slyly as Luke turned his attention back toward him, "where's that gorgeous sister of yours, anyway?"

"I hate to disappoint you, Deak, but she didn't come with me this time," Luke said, watching as Deak shook his head in disappointment, and then went back to what was left of his drink. "She's on some assignment with Senator Organa, some big important… I don't know," he sighed, shrugging his shoulders as he took another sip.

"Besides," he said, grinning widely as he looked back at his friend, "When are you gonna give up on Leia? You've been chasing her since you were twelve years old. You know she's a hopeless case."

"There's always hope, Luke," Deak grinned, looking back at his friend through the rim of his glass. "Especially with one as drop-dead beautiful as she is. Have you ever really looked at her?" he asked, leaning close to him, a serious, dreamy-eyed expression on his face. "I mean, her face, her body, she's just so…"

"That's my sister you're talking about, Deak," Luke said, grimacing painfully as he held his hand up in front of Deak's face. "Think what you want, but keep the details to yourself, okay?"

"Sorry," Deak said, placing his glass on the bar and waving to the droid again.

"So what brings you out today, Luke?" Biggs asked, as the droid rolled up and placed another ale in front of Deak again.

"Oh, Uncle Owen and I had to come in for some parts, for the vaporators on the east ridge," he said. "The harvest is coming up in about four days, so I'm trying to help him get those units back online."

"He's lucky to have you around," Deak replied, nodding his head firmly. "If anybody can fix 'em, you can."

"Dad's the one he really needs," Luke sighed, looking at his glass as he turned it slowly on the bar in front of him. "I do okay with speeders and stuff like that, but he's a lot better at those vaporator relays than I am."

"How are your folks, by the way?" Biggs asked, as he snatched a handful of nuts from the bowl near him and began to munch on them.

"Oh, they're fine," Luke replied with a smile, as he took a handful for himself as Biggs slid the bowl over near him. "Lana's keeping them as busy as ever."

"Speaking of keeping busy," Deak said, pointing toward the doorway as he saw Owen walk in, as Luke and Biggs looked toward the door. "Looks like ol' Uncle Owen's come looking for you."

"Over here," Luke called, popping a couple of the small, sweet nuts into his mouth and munching contentedly as he waved at him; he watched his uncle blink his eyes several times, and then begin to walk through the crowded tavern toward them.

"Well, I see you found them," Owen said, as he walked up and slapped Biggs firmly on the back. "Hello boys. Staying out of trouble, I see?"

"Always, sir," Biggs replied with a smile. "We were just catching up a bit. Why don't you join us for one before you and the farm boy here have to get back to work?"

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea," Owen said, waving his hand at the droid behind the counter as he took a seat beside his nephew, and grabbed handful of nuts from the bowl for himself. "We've got a couple of hours before the Jawas show up, anyway," he sighed, as he and Luke exchanged a smile. "No sense getting back too early, or Beru'll find something else for us to do."

"Biggs made the Academy," Luke said, as Owen turned and looked at him, quite surprised. "He's shipping out in a couple of days."

Owen listened intently, as, right on Luke's cue, Biggs began to retell his story again, as life in the tavern went on around them.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Naboo<strong>_

It has been a glorious day, and she knew she should be exhausted. But, for some reason that she didn't really understand, she just couldn't bring herself to go to sleep, at least not willingly, not tonight.

Lana pursed her lips and puffed, hard, blowing her long, straight bangs out of her eyes as she squinted through the large round magnifier; she touched the tip of the fuser in her hand to each of the tiny circuits, moving quickly from one to the other, as the small green indicator on the thin, pencil-like device lit up as it fused and completed each of the tiny pathways.

She withdrew the fuser from the small circuit board that lay on her desk, looking up toward her door as she heard her mother's voice call to her. "Lana," Padmé called, "It's getting late, honey. You need to finish up and get ready for bed."

Lana sighed, as she looked at her desk quietly for a moment. "Yes, Mother," she said obediently, as she picked up the small circuit board and held it gingerly in her fingers; it was still quite warm, and she blew on it several times, as she jostled it carefully from one hand to the other. "Is it okay if I try out this mod first?" she called, turning her bright, green eyes up toward the ceiling as she spoke. "It'll just take a minute."

Lana smiled, as she heard her mother's reply come from her parent's room across the hallway. "That's fine," Padmé said. "Just don't be long, okay? You've had a busy day today."

"Thank you, Mother," Lana said, grinning brightly as she picked up the small logic probe from her desk; she placed her bare feet firmly on the floor and, with a quick, firm push, rolled her chair quickly across the smooth, hardwood floor to the other side of her room. "I wont be long, I promise."

It was her favorite pastime, when she wasn't digging through the stacks of books and discs that filled the many shelves of her room, and it had been since her earliest memories, when she would sit in Anakin's lap and watch him work at the bench in his shop. Like her brother and sister, she had spent many hours at their father's workshop, watching and helping as she could, as she, like her older siblings, had learned more about technology at her father's side than she would ever have dreamed possible.

It was one of his gifts, her mother had told her, long ago, the ability that Anakin had to relate to machines and devices. Leia, while extremely capable when she needed to be, had never shown much interest in technical things, much preferring to help her mother with the management side of the family business, when she wasn't devoting her time to studying under Senator Organa's tutelage. By the time that Lana was born, her brother Luke had become his father's dedicated apprentice, spending almost every moment that he could with Anakin at the shop, and, by the time that she was old enough to join them, Luke had become an accomplished repairman himself.

But Lana's own skills had proven second only to her father's, and he had encouraged her to develop and hone her abilities, just as her mother had encouraged her to pursue her love for history. It came naturally to her, almost as easily as it did for her father, and she loved it; she knew in her heart, though, that it was her father's company that she truly loved, and the time they spent together, much more than the work itself.

Lana pressed the small switch just below the circular chest plate of the bright silver droid that sat on the small bench in front of her; the tiny actuator motors whirred softly, and she watched as the shiny silver plate in the center of its chest swung open, quite smoothly. She reached inside, carefully, and began to sort through the neatly bound bundles of wires and optical cables that filled the droid's chest cavity.

K-8KO had been the very first project that she and her father had started together, several years ago, and the two of them had spent many, many hours working on her. They had patterned her after Threepio, and she resembled him quite a bit, though she was a bit smaller in stature. She was a protocol droid, just like their family's trusted, golden-clad companion, but, as wonderfully made as he was, Kayko, as Lana liked to call her, was different. She and her father had employed several new ideas in her construction, and, with Anakin's encouragement, Lana had imparted many of her own ideas into her design and appearance as well. She was her companion, much as Threepio had been Anakin's when he was a boy, and she had grown quite fond of her little helpmate over the past few years.

"Okay, Kayko," Lana said, biting her lip as she fastened the optical cable harness to the small circuit board she had been working on and snapped it into place. "Let's see if this helps."

Lana touched the logic probe in her hand to the board's connectors, as she saw the board begin to flash steadily, and she smiled as she saw the bright green indicator light up as she cycled quickly through the connections. "Looks like that's it," she said with a grin, as she withdrew the probe and pressed the small switch on Kayko's chest. She waited, with eager anticipation, as the plate swung closed, and then reached up and pressed the small, hidden switch in her droid's neck, just below her shiny silver chin.

"Oh," Kayko said, sitting up straight as her systems quickly came online, a surprised tone in her feminine, electronic voice. "Hello, my lady," she said, her bright blue optical sensors flashing several times as she looked back at Lana's smiling face.

"What happened?" Kayko said, her actuator motors whirring smoothly as she raised and lowered her arms several times. "I don't remember shutting down. I must have suffered some kind of system failure."

"You didn't have a failure, Kayko," Lana grinned, her long, dark brown hair bouncing around her shoulders as she shook her head, watching her droid continue to move her arms and legs gingerly. "I had to take you offline and repair your primary servo matrix," she said, placing the logic probe on the bench beside Kayko. "I had to flush your envee memory matrix when I did it, so that's why you don't remember shutting yourself down."

"Oh, well, that's a relief," Kayko said, watching Lana as she stood up from her chair and took a step back from her. "Thank you, my lady."

"So," Lana said, her head bouncing with anticipation as she motioned for her to stand up. "Get up, let's give it a try," she said with a grin, as Kayko looked down at the floor in front of her, somewhat apprehensively, and then stood up slowly.

"So, how's it feel?" Lana asked, watching as her droid took a couple of careful, pensive steps across her bedroom. "Is that better?"

"Oh, much better," Kayko exclaimed excitedly, turning around in a tight circle several times. "My left leg isn't catching anymore. Thank you so much, my lady!"

Lana giggled happily, as she watched her droid continue to try out her new modifications. Kayko's movements were much more natural and human-like than Threepio's; her quad-axis, fluid-filled joints had a far greater range of motion than the old triple-axis ones that Anakin had used to build Threepio long ago. He had designed them, just for her, and they had proven to be a tremendous success.

Lana looked up, just in time to see the door to her room open slowly. "Hey," Padmé exclaimed with a smile, as she stepped inside and watched Kayko turn smoothly toward her. "You fixed her!"

"You didn't really think she wouldn't, did you?" Anakin asked, as he followed close behind her; he folded his arms across the chest of his tan-colored tunic, as he leaned against the door frame, returning his daughter's bright smile.

"How ya feeling, Kayko?" Anakin asked, as the soft sound of her rubber-lined feet reverberated off the smooth, hardwood floor as she walked up to them.

"Good as new, sir," Kayko chimed, nodding politely as she turned her attention toward Padmé, as Lana walked up and stood beside her mother. "Mistress Lana has done a wonderful job tuning my servo matrices. I feel better than ever."

"I finished installing her extra memory circuits, too, Daddy," Lana beamed, watching as Anakin raised his eyebrow, surprised. "She's ready for you to check her out."

"All of it?" Anakin asked, shaking his head slowly with amazement, as he watched Kayko stand up, quite straight and proudly, at his daughter's side.

"Every bit," Lana replied, nodding her head firmly as she tapped Kayko's silver chest plate, excitedly. "See for yourself."

Padmé slipped her arm around Lana's waist, as they watched Anakin press the switch on Kayko's chest. "And I thought I was going to have trouble getting _you _to bed," she sighed, as she caught sight of the bright grin that spread over her husband's face as he crouched down and looked into Kayko's innards, at the dazzling array of lights and indicators that flashed inside her.

"Kayko,' Anakin said, as he quickly pressed several small switches inside his daughter's droid, "How much memory are you reading in your primary storage core now?"

The three of them waited quietly for a moment, as Lana's droid cocked her head to the side, just a bit, the indicators inside her flashing quickly as she checked her internal circuits.

"One point one seven petabytes," Kayko replied, turning her blue, electronic eyes back to Anakin again. "Counting the seven banks of alderium storage Mistress Lana added this evening, of course, but I haven't run a reliability check on it yet."

"That's amazing," Padmé said, as she shook her head slowly. "You could store a whole library, maybe two, in there."

"Or three, big ones," Anakin said, tapping the switch on Kayko's chest and smiling back at Lana as she began to bounce on her toes, giggling excitedly. "We need to run an extended check, to make sure it's all stable," he said, as Padmé and Lana exchanged an excited glance, "but there's no doubt about it. She's a walking, talking miracle," he said, nodding his head slowly. "No droid's ever had as much storage capacity as Kayko does now, at least not any I've ever heard of."

"A miracle?" Kayko replied, a surprised tone in her soft, electronic voice as she rolled Anakin's comment over in her nimble, positronic mind. "Oh, my, I never thought of myself as a miracle before."

"Lana, I'm so very proud of you," Padmé laughed, as she wrapped her arms around her daughter and hugged her tightly.

Lana smiled brightly, as she closed her eyes and hugged her mother tightly in return. "Thank you, Mother," she sighed contentedly, as she opened her eyes and looked back up at Padmé's smiling face as she released her from her embrace. "But I couldn't have done it without Daddy's help," she said, turning her beaming face back to her father again.

"Sure you could have, and you did," Anakin replied, tossing her an approving wink as he placed his hand on Kayko's shoulder. "I was just there to cheer you on."

"Come on, Kayko," Anakin said, patting the slender, silver droid firmly on her shoulder. "Lana needs to get ready for bed. Let's go run that extended check on your memory while they're doing that, okay? You can come back up when it finishes."

"Yes, sir," Kayko replied, and Padmé and Lana both watched as he followed her toward the bedroom door.

"I'll be back to tell you goodnight soon as I get her hooked up, Princess," Anakin said, looking back over his shoulder at her as he paused in the doorway for a second.

"Okay, Daddy," Lana replied, as she picked up her nightgown from the foot of her bed.

"Okay, let's go," Padmé sighed, as she placed her hands firmly on Lana's shoulders and shoved her toward the bathroom at the far end of her room. "We've had a busy day, and you need to get some rest."

"Yes, ma'am," Lana replied, quite happily, as she bounced through the door and closed it behind her.

"Just like your father," Padmé giggled softly, shaking her head as she walked over to Lana's bed and began to turn back the bedclothes. "Can't sit still for a minute."

* * *

><p>Padmé closed her eyes and smiled, holding tightly to the hairbrush in her hand, as Anakin walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She giggled, happily and contentedly, as she felt his lips on the nape of her neck, and his warm, soft breath on her shoulder as he buried his face in the curly, dark hair that flowed over them.<p>

"What are you doing?" she laughed softly, opening her eyes slightly and smiling back at his reflection in the mirror in front of them.

"What am I doing?" he asked, an air of playful surprise in his voice, as he snuggled close to her, turning his kisses back to her neck again. "What do you think I'm doing?" he chuckled, as he paused, and blew lightly on the moist skin just below her ear, where he'd just kissed her a second before.

"Ohh, you're terrible," she giggled, squirming playfully, as she felt the goose bumps that ran down her shoulder and arms, as he held her tightly. She bit her lip, just for a moment, as she felt his lips begin to move slowly down her neck again; she stopped squirming, and she sighed, deeply and contentedly, as she laid her head gently against his, as she felt his hands slide over the waist of her soft, satin gown and over her stomach, as he held her tightly in his arms.

"Okay, I take it back," she purred softly, biting her lip again as she squeezed her eyes shut and reached up, running her fingers through his hair and around his neck. "You're not terrible, you're amazing."

It was the cue he'd been waiting for, and Padmé squealed playfully, as, with a speed and nimbleness that she'd grown quite accustomed to, he slipped his right arm under her knees and swept her up into his arms. "Really?" Anakin grinned, as he bounced her playfully, eliciting another squeal of delight as he caught her and held her close to his bare chest.

"Stop," she giggled, lifting her finger to her lips as she smiled back at him, wrapping her arm tightly around his neck. "You're going to wake Lana up," she said, as she gazed up fondly at his smiling face.

"_I'm_ not going to wake her up," he replied, quite nonchalantly, as he carried her through the door and into their softly lit bedroom. "You're the one who's doing all the squealing, not me."

"Oh, my," Padmé said softly, as she watched their shadow on the wall dance in rhythm with the soft, flickering candlelight. She laughed out loud again, as, just as suddenly as he'd swept her into his arms, he tossed her onto the bed, watching with a grin as she bounced and came to rest near its center, and then leapt onto the bed beside her.

"Ahh!" she laughed, reaching up and brushing her hair from her face with her left hand, as she still held tightly to her hairbrush with her right. "Look what you've done," she said with a grin, as she rose up on her elbow and gazed out at him through the haze of disheveled hair that still covered half of her face. "I haven't even finished brushing my hair yet, and now I've got to start all over again."

"You were going to have to, anyway," Anakin grinned playfully, grabbing one of the pillows from their bed and tucking it behind her as he pushed her playfully back down on the bed and rolled up close to her, wrapping his arm tightly around her.

"Oh, I was, was I?" she giggled, as she rubbed her nose playfully against his. "Well, I guess I won't be needing this anymore, then," she said, and he watched her as she tossed her hairbrush onto the floor beside their bed.

"I didn't really want to mess with it right now, anyway," she said softly, as she brushed her fingertips lightly against his cheek. She took another deep, contented breath, as she gazed into his warm, blue eyes for a long moment.

"That was a wonderful thing you did today," Padmé said softly, as she looked at his hand for a moment, lacing her fingers in his as she spoke. "You made Lana feel very special," she said, squeezing his hand tightly as she gazed back up into his eyes. "And me, too."

"I love you so, so much," Padmé whispered, as her eyes searched his for a long moment.

"I love you," Anakin said softly, as he smiled quietly at her; she was more beautiful than ever, he thought to himself, as he brushed his hand through her thick, wavy hair. He closed his eyes, as she pulled him down to her and pressed her soft, full lips to his, as he felt that wonderful, familiar flutter in his stomach again, as those familiar, soothing flames of passion began to burn again, as brightly as they had since the night they were kindled, so very long ago.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Tatooine<strong>_

The late afternoon sun shone down, with all its relentless fury, on the small group of storm troopers that milled about near the half-buried lifepod. Only its forward section, and its small round access door, were still visible; Tatooine's relentless wind had almost buried what hadn't been covered by the impact when it had struck the barren, empty landscape.

"Someone was in the pod," one of the troopers said, turning to the imperial officer that trudged through the sand to join him. They'd been sent, by Lord Malak herself, to check every one of the pods that had been ejected for good measure. "The tracks go off in this direction," he said, as he gestured toward the mountain range in the distance.

The both turned their attention toward the trooper nearest the pod, as he suddenly stood up, holding a small, silver gear in his gloved hand. "Look sir," he said, through the hollow, tinny comlink in his helmet, as he handed the small gear to his commanding officer. "Droids!"

* * *

><p>"So," Luke said, raising his eyebrow curiously. "How'd it go?"<p>

"It went fine," Shanda replied, smiling sheepishly at him as she took what was left of the food she'd packed from the small basket and placed it back in the cooler in the corner of the small kitchen.

"And?" Luke said again, waving his hands as he watched her walk back to the table again. "What else happened?"

"What, specifically, do you want to know, little cousin?" Shanda asked, smiling slyly at him as she turned toward him, placing her hand on her hip as she leaned against the table.

"Nothing much," Luke said, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "I mean, did he kiss you, is he in love with you, are you getting married," he said, a sly grin spreading across his face as he spoke. "Just little stuff like that."

"That is _none _of your business, little boy," she laughed, as she picked up a glass from the counter and poured him a glass of water, handing it to him.

"Luke," Owen called, as he walked quickly to the stairs that led up to the coarse, hot sand above, "They're here. Let's get a move on."

"Alright, Uncle Owen," Luke called, taking the glass she handed him as he leaned against the kitchen sink. "I'll be right there."

"You'd better get a move on," Shanda said, nodding her head toward the doorway as she watched Luke take a long, thirsty swig from the glass in his hand. "You know Dad doesn't like to deal with the Jawas," she said, as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"I know, I think that's why he takes me along," Luke sighed, as he placed his glass in the sink, and started toward the doorway. "We only need a couple more droids today, though, so this shouldn't take long," he said, glancing back at her with a grin as he made his way out of the kitchen.

"Good luck," Shanda called after him, as she placed the last of the dishes from her basket into the sink; she paused for a moment, smiling softly to herself, and then went back to her work.

* * *

><p>"Luke!" Beru called, as she ran to the bottom of the stairs, attempting to catch him before it was too late.<p>

"What is it, Aunt Beru?" Luke called, as he turned and looked back down the stairs to where she leaned against the handrails.

"Tell Uncle if he gets a translator, be sure it speaks Bocci," she called, watching him as he nodded his head firmly.

"Alright," Luke replied, narrowing his eyes as he glanced over at the ragtag selection of droids that stood near the large transport, a short distance from the homestead. "It doesn't look like we have much of a choice," he said, shaking his head as he looked back down at his aunt again, "but I'll remind him."

* * *

><p>Owen looked down at the little, hooded Jawa who stood near him, a small, remote command unit held tightly in his small, clawed hand.<p>

"Seleevot," the little Jawa said, nodding his hooded head and gesturing toward the row of rag-tag droids; Owen scanned them over quickly, watching as other Jawas continued to herd more and more of them out of the transport's hold into the bright morning sunlight.

"Alright," Owen sighed, gesturing toward the droids as he began to follow along after the chattering little Jawa. "Let's see what you've got."

The selection didn't look very impressive today; he hated having to buy droids this way, but he knew that new ones were far, far too expensive for the tight budget of a moisture farmer. Besides, he had Luke, and Anakin, to help him repair them, and the combination had always worked well. The last droids they'd bought and repaired had lasted them almost six seasons; he hoped that, whatever they bought today, would last as long.

Owen stopped, as he regarded the tall, golden droid that stood quietly in the bright, setting sunlight. "You," he said, eyeing the droid warily as he stood up straight and turned his full attention toward him. "I suppose your programmed for etiquette and protocol."

"Protocol?" Threepio replied proudly, as he raised his arms slightly. "Why it's my primary function, sir," he said, watching as Owen waved his hand and began to shake his head slowly. "I am well versed in all the customs…"

"I have no need for a protocol droid," Owen replied, smiling politely as he started to walk on to the next droid in the ragtag line.

"Of course you haven't sir, not in an environment such as this," Threepio interjected; Owen stopped, turning a curious eye back to the tall, golden figure as he continued. "That is why I have been programmed to…"

"What I really need is a droid that understands the binary language of moisture vaporators," Owen said, interrupting Threepio again.

"Sir," Threepio replied excitedly, "my first job was programming binary load lifters, very similar to your vaporators in most respects."

"Can you speak Bocci?" Owen asked, cocking his head as he eyed the golden droid curiously; he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something about this fellow's mannerisms seemed familiar.

"Of course I can, sir, it's like a second language to me," Threepio exclaimed, nodding his head firmly. "I'm fluent in Bocci and can readily communicate in over…"

"Alright, shut up," Owen said, nodding his head as he glanced at the little Jawa beside him. "I'll take this one," he said, as he reached into his pocket for a handful of credits.

"Uncle Owen," Luke called, as he trotted quickly across the sand to join him; Owen looked back at his nephew, watching as he came to join him, panting from his short sprint across the hot afternoon sand. "Aunt Beru said to be sure that if we get a translator, to be sure it…"

"Speaks Bocci," Owen replied, nodding his head firmly. "Not to worry," he said, as he gestured toward the golden droid that stood near him. "Got one right here that should fill the bill nicely."

Luke nodded his head, as he turned his eyes toward the droid that stood beside his uncle; Owen's brow furrowed, as he saw Luke stand silently for a moment, as his jaw slowly dropped open in disbelief.

"Luke?" Owen asked, reaching over and squeezing his nephew's shoulder tightly as he watched him stand perfectly still, eyeing the droid in front of him with a look of stunned disbelief. "Are you alright?"

"Threepio?" Luke said, finally managing to speak. "Threepio, is that you?" he said, eyeing the droid carefully as he stepped up closer to him.

"I'm sorry, sir," Threepio said apologetically, as he waved his arms slowly. "But, have we met?"

"It _is_ you," Luke said, shaking his head slowly as he stared up at him, instantly recognizing the telltale gash directly under Threepio's golden chin.

"Luke," Owen said, as he realized what Luke was saying, "Are you telling me that this is your droid?"

"Positive," Luke said, nodding firmly as he looked back at his uncle. "Look here, under his chin," he said, as he and Owen both examined the gash in his metal coverings at his neck. "There's the gash I put there when I was twelve years old, when I hit him with the speeder."

"Well, I'll be damned," Owen said, as he watched Luke trace the cut in Threepio's coverings with his finger. "I _knew _this droid looked and sounded familiar," he said, turning his attention back to Luke again. "But what the devil is he doing out here in the middle of the desert? Did your father sell him or something?"

"No," Anakin said, shaking his head firmly as he reached up and ran his fingers through his hair. "He's supposed to be with Leia, just like Artoo is, right now, on Alderaan."

"Excuse me sir, but did you say Artoo?" Threepio said, a puzzled, confused tone in his voice as Luke and Owen looked back at him. "Did you mean Artoo Deetoo?"

"Of course I do, and why don't you remember me?" Luke said, a mixture of confusion and concern growing in his own voice as he placed his hand on Threepio's shoulder. "Where's Artoo?"

"Over there," Threepio replied, turning and gesturing toward the little group of astrodroids that stood a short distance from them.

"What the…?" Luke said, his jaw dropping again as he suddenly saw Artoo, sitting quietly among the little group of droids. "What the _hell_ is going on?" he said, as he looked back at his uncle again.

"Here," Owen said, as he placed a handful of credits into the little Jawa's eager, outstretched hand. "We'll take this one, and that one there," he said, gesturing toward the little blue astrodroid, as Luke trotted across the sand toward him. "The blue one."

Owen nodded his head, as the little Jawa patted him happily on the arm. "Okay, okay, whatever," he said, shooing the little creature away as he turned his attention back to Threepio again. "Come on, let's go," he said, motioning for Threepio to follow him as he started across the sand, to where Luke knelt in front of Artoo. "Let's see if we can figure out what's going on here."

"I heartily agree with you sir, though I must admit that I'm afraid I may not be much help," Threepio said, as he shuffled along through the sand behind Owen, the golden rays of the setting sun glinting brightly off his gold, dusty form.

* * *

><p>Luke drummed his fingers anxiously on the smooth, white console, as he waited for the com channel to open. "Come on, come on," he grumbled, running his hand anxiously through his sandy, blond hair as he looked down and watched the display as the transmitter signaled again.<p>

He smiled, as he realized what he'd just done; he could hear his mother's voice, as clearly as ever, almost as if she was standing beside him.

"_You look just like your father when you do that," Padmé said, leaning down and kissing him gently on the cheek as he sat at the workbench and eyed the stubborn actuator with a frustrated expression._

"_Come on, Mom," Luke said, as he turned and looked up at his mother with a frustrated smile. "I'm trying to work, here. I've been trying to get this stupid thing to work all afternoon."_

"_Sorry," Padmé smiled, as she patted his shoulder gently. "So stop trying to fix it, and just fix it," she said with a bright smile, as she started toward the doorway that led to the front of the shop. _

"_That's what I'm TRYING to do," Luke called with a frustrated laugh, as he watched his mother walk back through the doorway. "I can't work magic like Dad does, you know," he called, as he turned his eyes back toward the stubborn part again, smacking it soundly with the wrench in his greasy hands._

_Luke smiled and shook his head, laughing as he heard his mother's cheerful voice echo from the front of the shop. "Sure you can, sweetheart," she called loudly. "Just be one with the part, remember? Just like your father told you."_

"_Be one with the part," Luke said, shaking his head as he laughed under his breath. He looked back at the actuator again, disgustedly, as he whacked it again with the wrench._

Luke turned his attention back to the console as he heard the loud, bell-like tone; "Finally," he sighed, and he reached over and tapped the control pad as the transmitter locked on to the incoming signal's beacon frequency. He blinked his eyes, as they adjusted themselves as the transmitter automatically dimmed the lights around him; he looked up at the holographic display, watching it intently as it flashed, several times, as his father's image appeared on the display in front of him.

"_Luke?_" Anakin said sleepily, running his hand through his hair as his image flickered again on the holopad.

"Sorry to wake you, Dad," Luke said, apologetically, smiling as he watched his father do what he had done only a moment before. "I know you and Mom were asleep."

"_No, it's okay, son_," Anakin said, shaking his head slowly. "_What's going on? Is everything okay there?"_

"Well, yes and no," Luke said, leaning closer to the display as he watched his father blink his eyes sleepily, several times. "Everything's fine here, but something crazy just happened a little while ago."

"_What happened?"_ Anakin asked, his expression growing more concerned as he sensed the concern in Luke's voice.

"_What's going on?"_ Luke heard a familiar soft voice ask, and he smiled as he saw his mother's image appear on the holopad as she placed her arm around Anakin's shoulder and sat down beside him. "_Are you all right, Luke?"_

"I'm fine, Mom," Luke said, nodding his head firmly. "But there's some really strange stuff going on around here, and none of it makes any sense."

"You remember I told you that Uncle Owen and I were going out to buy some new droids, for the harvest?" he asked, lowering his voice as he glanced around the room behind him as he spoke.

"_Yeah_," Anakin nodded, scratching his head sleepily as his blue-green image flickered again on the holopad.

"Well," Luke said, taking a deep breath and sighing deeply as he looked at his mother and father's image intently, "You're not going to believe this, but Uncle Owen and I just bought Artoo and Threepio from the Jawas, not more than two hours ago."

"_You what?"_ Anakin asked, leaning closer to the display, a look of stunned disbelief on his face. "_Are you sure_?"

"Positive," Luke said, nodding his head firmly. "They're out in the workshop now. I've been trying to get them both cleaned up. They look like they've been wandering the wastelands for days."

"_But they're supposed to be with your sister_," Padmé said, shocked. "_How in the world would they have ended up there, on Tatooine, with a bunch of junk droid dealers?"_

"I don't know," Luke said, shaking his head. "But that's not the worst of it. Artoo recognized me, but Threepio doesn't have a clue who I am."

"_What do you mean he doesn't know who you are?"_ Anakin asked, his expression growing more concerned and puzzled by the moment.

"He acts like he's never seen me," Luke said, shaking his head again. "I ran a quick diagnostic on him, a little while ago, and it looks like his memory's been completely wiped out."

Anakin and Padmé looked at each other in silence for a long moment, as Luke took a deep breath; he knew that what he had to tell them next wasn't going to be easy for them to hear.

"Artoo's acting strange, too, Dad," Luke said, watching as his parents turned their attention back to him. "I stumbled across part of a recording while I was cleaning him, but he won't play it back for me, even when I tried to fit him with a restraining bolt."

"_That doesn't sound like Artoo_," Padmé said, looking back at Anakin again. "_He's never tried to hide anything from us before."_

"Mom," Luke said, his tone softening as his mother turned her attention toward him again, "I think Leia might be in some kind of trouble."

"_Why?_" Padmé asked, her expression growing more concerned by the moment.

"This is the only part of the recording that I've been able to play back," Luke said, as he reached down and placed the small data disc into the console beside him. He took another deep breath, and then tapped the control pad, watching as his sister's white-clad image appeared on the display in front of them.

Anakin felt Padmé's arm tighten around his shoulders, as they watched, in stunned disbelief, as their daughter's heartfelt plea replayed over and over again.

"_Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope... sshskskkHelp me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope..."_

Luke pressed the switch on the control pad, and looked back up at his mother and father's stunned faces as they watched Leia's image disappear.

"I've tried to get Artoo to play back the whole message for me, but he won't," Luke said, shaking his head slowly. "All he'll tell me is that it's an urgent message for someone named Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said. "Do you have any idea who he's talking about?"

Anakin and Padmé looked at each other again, in silence; Luke watched them both for a long moment. "Do you have any idea what's going on here, Dad?" he asked, as he watched his father turn a deeply troubled face back to him.

"_No son, I don't_," Anakin said quietly. "_Luke, stay there with Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. Your mother and I are leaving now. We'll be there as soon as we can."_

"But do you have any idea what's going on?" Luke said, shaking his head and looking at his father with a frustrated, worried expression. "Leia's supposed to be on Alderaan, with Senator Organa. Why would she be trying to..."

"_I don't know, Luke,"_ Anakin said, shaking his head as he glanced back up at Padmé. "_But we're going to find out. You stay put there, and keep an eye on Threepio and Artoo till we get there,"_ he said. "_Don't let them out of your sight, understand?"_

"Okay, Dad," Luke sighed, nodding his head as he looked back up at him. "But hurry. I'm worried about Leia."

"_We'll be there by morning,"_ Padmé said, looking back at her son's troubled face_. "Just do as your father says and stay put until we get there, okay?"_

"I will, Mom," Luke said, nodding his head obediently.

"_We'll see you soon_," Padmé said, nodding her head as Luke watched her and his father stand up quickly from the com station back home. "_We love you."_

"Love you, too," Luke said quietly, a troubled smile on his face, as he watched his father and mother look at him for another moment, and then their signal flickered and faded from the holopad in front of him.

"Just stay put till we get there," Luke parroted, leaning back in his chair and banging his fist on the counter in front of him. "What else do I ever do?" he sighed, shaking his head as he reached over and powered down the transmitter.

"What have you gotten yourself into, Leia?" Luke sighed, shaking his head as he stood up slowly from his chair. "If Mom and Dad don't kill you when they find you," he said, as he turned and started back up the stairs to the main level, "I will."

_Our story continues shortly..._


	3. Chapter 3: Innocence Lost

_**Chapter 3: Innocence Lost**_

"Lana," Padmé called softly, as she gently rubbed her daughter's shoulder. "Lana, honey, wake up."

Lana sighed, blinking her eyes sleepily in the soft light; she looked up at her mother's face, a little alarmed and puzzled, as she sat beside her on her bed. "What... what is it, Mother?" she asked, as she lifted herself up on her elbow and rubbed her eyes, sleepily.

"Honey, Luke just called us a little while ago, from Uncle Owen's," Padmé said softly, as she rubbed Lana's arm gently. "Something's going on with your sister."

"Leia?" Lana asked; Padmé felt her own heart ache, as she sensed the worry and concern that suddenly struck her daughter's heart. "What's wrong, Mother? Is she all right?"

"I'm sure she's fine, sweetheart," Padmé replied, smiling at her reassuringly. "But something's happened with the droids," she said, watching the puzzled, sleepy look that spread quickly across her daughter's face. "Somehow, they've ended up on Tatooine with your brother, and we don't know how they got there."

"They're supposed to be with Leia," Lana said, as her mother nodded her head firmly in agreement. "What are they doing there?"

"We don't know, but that's what your father and I are going to find out," Padmé nodded. "We're leaving in just a little while, for Tatooine, but we shouldn't be gone long," she said. "Your Aunt Sola is on her way here now, and she's going to stay with you and Kayko until we get back, okay?"

"But, I want to go too, Mother," Lana said. "Please, let me go with you. I won't be any trouble, I promise."

"No, baby," Padmé said, shaking her head firmly as she watched her daughter sigh, disappointed. "I know you want to go, and I know you're worried, but I don't have any idea what's going on yet, and I need to know that you're safe," she said softly, as she reached over and gently caressed Lana's cheek. "I promise, we'll be home just as quickly as we can, as soon as we've sorted all this out, okay?"

"Okay," Lana sighed softly. "Will you let me know you and Daddy are okay, when you get there? I'm going to be really worried about you."

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Padmé sighed, gazing at her daughter fondly for a long moment. "Trust me, you might be surprised to learn how just resourceful your father can be," she winked, as Lana grinned back at her. "We'll be fine, and so will Leia," she said, nodding her head firmly. "I promise."

"Aunt Sola will be here soon," Padmé said, as she tucked Lana back into bed, gently fluffing her pillow as she laid her head back down on it again. "You just go back to sleep, and Daddy and I will be in to tell you goodbye before we leave, okay?"

"Okay," Lana sighed, as she watched her mother gaze quietly at her for a long moment.

"I love you so much, Lana," Padmé said softly, her eyes glistening brightly in the soft light of the lamp near Lana's bed.

Lana didn't really understand what it was she felt; yet somewhere, deep down inside her, it was there, and she knew instinctively that her mother was hurting, badly. She reached out from underneath the thick, warm blanket on her bed and took her mother's hand tightly in hers, as she smiled up at her reassuringly.

"I love you too, Mother," Lana said softly. "Don't worry," she said. "Everything will be fine. You'll see."

Padmé smiled back at her, and Lana could tell that she was struggling to fight back the tears that welled up in her eyes. "I know," Padmé said softly, her voice trembling as she forced a smile. "Try to go back to sleep, honey. We'll be in to tell you goodbye in a little while."

Lana watched quietly as her mother stood up and walked quickly out of her room. She rolled over onto her side, tucking her arm beneath her head, as she gazed out of the window at the stars that shone brightly in the crystal clear night sky.

Lana felt that same troubling fear in her heart, as the dream she'd had the night before returned to her mind; she closed her eyes, swallowing hard, as she tried to push that frightening image from her mind again, and then opened her eyes very slowly, gazing back up at the stars again.

Something was wrong. And, as badly as it troubled her, she wanted to know what it was.

* * *

><p>"Is she alright?" Anakin asked quietly, looking back at Padmé over his shoulder; he stood at their closet, rummaging through the stacks of clothes near the stop shelf, and he paused for a moment as he watched her step into their room and close the door quietly behind her.<p>

"She's worried, just like we are," Padmé sighed, walking slowly across the room to join him. "I knew she would be," she said, watching as Anakin nodded his head slowly, and then went back to his search. "The Force is so strong with her these days, I'm surprised she didn't sense it before you did," she said quietly, as she placed her hand gently on his shoulder.

"She may have," Anakin sighed, as he finally caught sight of the box he'd been looking for, near the back of the top shelf. "She mentioned the other day that she was worried about Leia," he said, pausing and looking back at Padmé for a moment. "I could tell that something was bothering her, but she didn't seem to want to talk about it, so I didn't push her."

"Your dreams," Padmé said, nodding her head slowly, as her eyes searched his for a long moment. "Do you think she's been sensing the same things you have, about Leia?"

"She feels a lot of things, but, she doesn't really know what she's feeling yet," Anakin sighed, shaking his head slowly; he turned back to the closet, rising up on his toes as he grabbed the box and pulled it down from the shelf, dusting it off carefully.

Padmé followed along closely beside him, as he turned and made his way over toward their bed. "She's got the same gift her mother has," Anakin said, looking back at Padmé fondly as he placed the box on their bed. "It's not surprising," he said, watching as Padmé smiled, albeit a little weakly, back at him. "She's just like you in a lot of ways."

"And you, too," Padmé sighed, watching as he unfastened the strap that bound the box's lid, tossing it aside as he opened it. "You know that's a dangerous combination," she said, watching as he smiled back at her, and then took their Jedi clothing from the box.

"Are you sure Leia's okay?" Padmé asked quietly, her eyes doing little to conceal the worry and concern behind them as she squeezed Anakin's arm tightly. "I'm so worried," she said softly, shaking her head slowly as Anakin placed their clothes into the small travel case, and then took her gently into his arms.

"I don't know," he said, very softly, as he hugged Padmé tightly. "Something's wrong," he said, a deeply troubled look on his own face, as he looked out of the window at the stars that twinkled brightly in the night sky. "But I don't know what."

"If anything were to happen to her, or to Luke, or Lana, I don't know what I'd do," Padmé whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as she hugged him tightly. "I'm so scared."

"I know, I am too," Anakin said quietly, nodding his head slowly as he released her, partway, from his embrace. "But we're going to go find out what's going on," he said, as he rubbed her shoulders reassuringly. "And she's going to be just fine, I promise."

"How can you be sure?" Padmé asked, watching as Anakin turned and walked quickly to their dresser, opening the small drawer on the top left side.

"Because I trust my feelings," he said, glancing back over his shoulder at her, as he reached in and pressed the small switch near the back; Padmé watched, as he quickly retrieved his two light sabers, and her own, and then closed the hidden panel in the back again, closing the drawer as he turned and started back over toward her.

"And I trust our daughter," he said, as he tossed their weapons into the travel case, and then closed it securely. "Leia's a very strong, very capable young woman now," he said, looking back at Padmé with a reassuring smile, watching her as she nodded her head slowly and took a long, deep breath.

"Even so, though," he sighed, as he picked up the case and handed her their dark brown cloaks, turning his fiercely determined eyes back to hers again, "We're going to go and make sure."

"Come on," he said, nodding his head and gesturing toward the door. "Sola should be here any minute," he said, as he followed Padmé across their room. "Let's go put this stuff in the ship, and get the engines warmed up," he said, reaching up and turning off the light.

"Don't forget to say goodbye to Lana before we leave," Padmé said, stopping and turning toward him, squeezing his arm tightly as she looked up at him. "She'd be heartbroken if you left without telling her goodbye."

"You know I'd never do that," Anakin said, smiling at her reassuringly as he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. He looked back into their room for a moment, and then, closing the door quietly behind him, he headed down the hallway after Padmé.

* * *

><p>Shanda leaned against the wall of the workshop, her arms folded across her chest, as she and Owen watched Luke, as he crouched in front of Artoo.<p>

"Okay," she sighed, as she watched him withdraw the small, square logic board from the little droid's central access panel and stand up slowly. "So let me get this straight. _All_ of Threepio's memories are gone?"

"Every last one," Luke sighed, shaking his head slowly as he walked over to join them near the workbench. "He's got two, maybe three days worth of memory data, at the most," he said, as he glanced over at his father's droid, Shanda and Owen's gaze following his. They stood there quietly for a moment, as they watched the steam rise from the vat of hot oil he was immersed in.

"Could there have been some kind of accident that could have caused that?" Owen asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he watched Luke take a deep breath, and then sigh again, shaking his head slowly.

"Nothing that I can think of, that could cause that type of total failure," he replied, turning his eyes back to his uncle and cousin again. "Even if he'd been hit with a plasma overload of some kind, there'd be bits and chunks of residual data."

"There's _nothing_ left," Luke sighed, as Shanda and Owen exchanged a troubled glance. "Somebody wiped his memory with a plasma probe, that's the only thing I can think of."

"But why would someone do that?" Shanda asked, as Luke applied the logic probe in his hand to the board he'd removed from Artoo a moment before.

"I don't know," Luke said, frowning deeply as the probe flashed on an off, as he worked with the logic card in his hand. "But I'm convinced of one thing," he said, as he turned his eyes back up to them again. "Squirt, here, knows what's happened," he said, nodding toward Artoo again. "He just won't tell us."

"None of this makes any sense," Shanda sighed, wrapping her arms tightly around herself as a deeply troubled expression spread slowly across her face. "I'm worried about Leia," she said softly, after a long pause, as Luke and her father stood quietly beside her for a moment.

Shanda's heart ached for him, and she reached over and squeezed Luke's arm reassuringly, as she saw the deeply worried look on his usually happy face. "Me too," he said, as he stood quietly for a long time, the memory of his sister's heartfelt plea for help echoing through his mind, over and over again.

"Well, let's not jump to any conclusions," Owen sighed, offering them both a reassuring smile, as best he could. "Your mother and father will be here soon, and we'll get to the bottom of all this. It may all be just a big misunderstanding, that's all."

"I hope so," Luke said, nodding his head as he tried to smile, rather weakly, and then he turned his attention back to the data card in his hands.

Owen turned and looked out of the workshop's window beside him. "It's getting late," he said, as he saw the larger of Tatooine's suns begin to slip slowly below the horizon. "We need to get the power shut down on the vaporators, before it starts to get cold," he said, turning his attention back to Luke again.

"Okay," Luke replied, as he placed the probe in his hands on the workbench. "I'll get Threepio out of the cleaning unit, pop this card back in Artoo, and then I'll be out to help you," he said, as his uncle nodded and headed toward the door. "It won't take a minute or two."

"I'll go check on Mom and see if she's heard from Uncle Anakin and Aunt Padmé yet," Shanda said, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly as she smiled back at him. "And I'll see if we can scrounge up something to eat, too."

"Sounds good," Luke said, as he looked up at her fondly. "Thanks, Shanda," he said, and he watched her as she turned and followed her father quickly out of the workshop, closing the door behind her.

"Alright, you ornery little scrap pile," Luke sighed, walking quickly toward Artoo and kneeling in front of him, as the little droid swung his dome toward him. "Let's see if this helps you loosen up that little electronic tongue of yours."

* * *

><p>Sola looked up, as she sat on the couch near the softly crackling fireplace; the soft sound of Lana's footsteps had drawn her from her book, and she smiled, albeit a little concerned, as she watched her niece rub her eyes sleepily as she walked quietly into the living room to join her.<p>

"What are you doing up, honey?" Sola asked, placing her book on the couch beside her, as Lana walked over toward her. "I thought you'd be asleep by now," she said, reaching over and rubbing her hand affectionately as Lana yawned, quite deeply, and then flopped down on the couch beside her.

"I couldn't sleep," Lana sighed, looking back at her aunt with a weak smile, as she reached up and brushed her long, dark hair behind her ear.

Sola looked at her quietly for a moment, as she watched Lana tuck her legs up under her and lean back against the thick, soft cushions. "Don't worry, sweetheart," she said softly, as Lana looked up at her; her dark brown hair framed her pretty face, and Sola watched her as she toyed nervously with the lace that lined the hem of her light green nightgown. Its color blended perfectly with her lovely green eyes, but, though they shone as brightly as always, Sola could clearly see the worry and concern that hid behind them, as the softly flickering firelight reflected in them.

"Your mother and father will be just fine, I promise," Sola said reassuringly, as she gently squeezed her niece's hand. "I know it's hard, but try not to worry, okay?"

"It's not Mother and Daddy I'm worried about," Lana replied softly, as she looked back down at her hands again. "It's Leia. I can't stop dreaming about her," she said, shaking her head slowly as she turned her eyes back up to Sola's again.

"What kind of dreams have you been having?" Sola asked, her own expression growing more concerned. Though she had never been able to talk openly with them about it, she knew, full well, how gifted Lana, Luke and Leia were and, though she still didn't really understand the Force's influence in her sister's family's life, she knew that it was there, and she had come to trust it, as she had seen it work so powerfully in Anakin and Padmé's lives.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Sola asked, as she slid a little closer to her on the couch.

Lana sat there quietly for a long moment, and Sola watched her as she took a long, deep breath, and sighed, just as deeply. "I've been having them the last couple of nights," Lana said, finally, as she continued to toy with the hem of her gown.

"Leia's in a room, a small one," Lana continued, as Sola listened intently. "There's a really bright light shining down on her, and the walls are really smooth. There aren't any windows," she said, shaking her head as she looked back up at her aunt again.

"Only a door," Lana said, looking back down at her hands again. "She's lying on a bench of some kind. I think she's sleeping, or at least she's trying too, but she can't, because she's scared," she said, shaking her head slowly.

"What's she scared of, honey?" Sola asked, squeezing Lana's hand reassuringly as she listened to her niece's troubled voice; her own heart ached, as she saw the look of pain and worry that spread over Lana's face, as she swallowed hard and continued.

"She's scared of the door," Lana said, frowning as she tried hard to make sense of her dream, and what she felt deep inside of her. "She's afraid it's going to open, and she's afraid of what's going to come through it."

"And that's when it happens," Lana said, looking back up at her Aunt Sola again.

"That's when what happens, sweetie?" Sola asked softly, reaching over and taking Lana's hand securely in both of hers.

"The door opens, and Leia sits up," Lana said, a look of pain and fear spreading across her young face as she began to feel that terrible sense of dread fill her heart again. "She's really, really, scared, and I see this little droid coming toward her, really slowly."

Sola sat quietly, listening intently, as Lana paused and took another deep, trembling breath. "And then, everything goes black," she said, turning her troubled eyes up to Sola again. "It's the blackness that she's scared of, but it's what I feel when she sees it that scares me," she said quietly, her voice trembling, as she squeezed Sola's hands tightly.

"What do you feel, honey?" Sola asked quietly, as she watched Lana close her eyes and swallow hard. "What is it that scares you?"

"You know how I told you once, that I can, you know, kind of feel when Mother and Daddy, and Luke and Leia are here?" Lana asked quietly. "I know it probably sounds silly, but I really can feel them, somehow," she said, shaking her head slowly as she looked back up at her aunt, somewhat sheepishly.

"It's not silly at all, honey," Sola smiled, shaking her head slowly. "You love your family very, very much, and they love you just as much," she said, watching as Lana nodded her head slowly, looking back down at her hands again. "Love's a powerful thing; it's not surprising that you can feel when they're near."

"Well," Lana sighed, squeezing Sola's hand even tighter as she continued, "When I see the blackness, I feel something, and I don't like what I feel," she said, shaking her head as she frowned. "It feels wrong, and it scares me, but it makes me angry, too."

"What is it?" Sola asked, her own expression growing deeply serious as she watched Lana struggle to put her feelings into words, to try and make sense of them.

"It's Daddy," Lana said, finally, her voice trembling as she turned her tear-filled eyes up to her aunt again. "Only, it isn't," she continued, shaking her head firmly as she struggled to make sense of what she was feeling. "For just a second, it feels like Daddy, and then it changes. It's all wrong," she said, her voice beginning to crack as the emotions that rushed inside her finally began to break through. "It's cold, and angry, and all I feel is hate."

Sola slid over next to her, wrapping her arms around Lana and pulling her close to her chest as she began to sob, very softly. "Shhhhhh," she shushed, rocking her gently in her arms as Lana wrapped her trembling arms tightly around her. "It's okay, sweetheart," she said, squeezing her own eyes shut tight as she kissed her gently on the crown of her head. "It's only a dream, that's all."

"Why would I dream something like that, Aunt Sola?" Lana sobbed, turning her pained expression back up to her aunt again. "I love Daddy so much, and... and it makes me feel so safe when I feel him, and I know that he's here," she said, as she laid her head back down on Sola's chest again.

Sola closed her eyes and sighed, very deeply; she felt her own heart ache as she realized the pain that Lana was feeling. "I feel so empty when he's away, and so does Mother," Lana sighed, as she took another long, trembling breath. "I get so angry when I feel that. Daddy never scares me, and he never could," she said, turning her tear-stained face back to Sola again, shaking her head firmly. "I want whatever it is that's trying to make me feel like that to stop."

"Have you talked to your father about your dreams, and what you're feeling?" Sola asked softly, as she reached up and wiped away some of the tears that stood on Lana's cheeks.

"No," Lana sighed, shaking her head slowly. "I haven't really had a chance to. I wanted to, tonight, before they left," she said, laying her head back down on Sola's chest, as she watched the fire dance for a moment in the fireplace. "But they had enough to worry about tonight."

"Why don't we call Aunt Beru, first thing in the morning?" Sola said, looking down at Lana with a smile as she looked up at her again. "Your mother and father should be there by then, and you can talk to him about your dreams."

"I don't want to bother him with this right now," Lana sighed, shaking her head slowly. "He and Mother have too much to worry about right now, and..."

"I've learned a lot of things about your father over the years, young lady," Sola said, placing her finger gently over Lana's lips. "One is that he's a very wise man, and the other is that he's never too busy for your mother or any of you."

"I think you should talk to him," Sola nodded, watching the smile that began to spread slowly across Lana's worried face. "He'll make you feel better, and you'll see that it's only a dream, and that you don't have anything to worry about."

"Doesn't he always make you feel better?" Sola grinned, watching as Lana laughed softly and nodded her head, as she sat up slowly beside her, wiping away a few more tears as she took another deep, trembling breath.

"Mm,hmm," Lana replied. "Always."

"It's settled, then," Sola nodded firmly, as she leaned over and hugged Lana tightly again.

"We'll call first thing in the morning."

"Thank you, Aunt Sola," Lana sighed, squeezing her eyes shut as she hugged her tightly.

"And I know something else that will make you feel even better," Sola grinned, looked back at her fondly as she released her from her embrace and stood up, smiling down at her. "How about a hot cup of re'naja before you go back to bed? I know for a fact that your mother brought some back from the café earlier today," she smiled, watching the grin that spread across Lana's face. "What say you and I polish off a little of it before they get home?"

"That sounds wonderful," Lana replied, as she stood up from the couch; she wiped her cheeks again with her hands, as she followed Sola through the living room and into the kitchen.

* * *

><p>Lana sat at the kitchen table; her chin was resting on her elbow, as she turned her cup slowly in her hand. She felt a little better now; the terrible, troubling images and feelings from the dream she'd had earlier were beginning to fade, as the fragrant aroma of the warm, sweet beverage began to fill the kitchen around them. She looked back up at Sola as she stood near the stove, slowly stirring the contents of the small pot with a long handled spoon.<p>

"I don't care what anybody else says," Sola said, smiling back at Lana as she slowly stirred the steaming, bubbling contents. "The only way to fix re'naja and have it taste right is to do it the old fashioned way," she said, turning her attention back to the pot again.

"Daddy just puts his in a cup and heats it on a thermopad," Lana said with a grin; she laughed, quietly, as she saw Sola stick her tongue out and grimace, painfully.

"Your daddy mixes his with Andarian brandy, too," Sola chuckled, looking back at Lana with a sly smile. "He could mix that with the stuff he uses to clean droids and he'd like it."

"Mother always says he has some strange tastes in food," Lana giggled, nodding her head. "She says it's all bad habits he picked up when he was a little boy on Tatooine. He let me try his once, though," she said with grin. "I liked it."

"Well, I'm not surprised, you're just like him," Sola sighed, turning her attention back to the pot on the stove again. "But you'll like this much better, I promise," she said, as she reached over and turned off the burner under the bubbling pot. She reached over and picked up the small towel that lay near her, and wrapped it around the handle as she started to turn the pot around a bit on the stove.

"Ouch!" Sola cried suddenly, as her fingertip touched the hot rim of the pot. Lana jerked her head up, her breath catching in her throat, as she suddenly sensed the sharp pain that coursed through Sola's hand. It was an unusual, frightening sensation; she clutched her hand to her chest, her heart pounding wildly, as she watched Sola recoil quickly from the stove, then reach over and pick up the damp rag that lay on the counter next to her and wrap it tightly around her finger.

"Aunt Sola, are you all right?" Lana asked, her breathing coming fast and shallow as she felt the wave of pain that she had sensed begin to fade.

"Yes, I'm fine," Sola sighed, grimacing a little painfully as she examined her finger closely. "I'm just clumsy, that's all," she said, looking back up at Lana. "I just got my finger a little too close to..."

Sola stopped speaking, as she saw the strange, frightened look on Lana's face; she was as pale as a ghost. "Lana, honey, are you all right?" she said, as she walked quickly over to the table beside her. "It's nothing, really," she said, kneeling down beside Lana as she watched her eyes dart around the room, a dazed, confused look on her face.

"I'm... I'm fine," Lana said finally, forcing a smile as she looked back at her aunt's worried face. "It... it just frightened me when you burned yourself, I guess," she sighed, shaking her head slowly as she spoke. "I guess I'm just a little on edge tonight, after that dream I had," she said, watching as Sola nodded her head and smiled reassuringly at her.

Lana shook her head, as she tried to push back the peculiar sensation, turning her attention to her aunt's hand again. "Is it bad?" she asked, watching as Sola dabbed the angry red spot on her finger gently.

"No, it's just a burn, that's all," she grimaced, looking back at Lana with a painful smile. "It always just hurts a little more when you burn a finger," she said, continuing to dab at it with the towel.

"Mother has some ointment that'll stop the pain," Lana said, suddenly remembering the time, not long before, when Padmé had had a similar accident in the kitchen. "It's in her dresser," she said, standing up quickly from her chair. "I'll go get it for you."

"Okay," Sola nodded, as she watched Lana turn and trot back out of the kitchen toward their bedrooms. "Hurry, I'll have your re'naja ready when you get back, okay?"

"Okay," Lana called over her shoulder, as she ran quickly down the hallway. "I won't be but a few minutes."

"I'm so clumsy," Sola sighed, walking back over to the sink and rinsing the rag under the cool water from the faucet for a moment. She wrung it out, sighing with relief as the cold rag took some more of the sting out of the angry red burn. She stood there silently, for a long moment, and then looked back over her shoulder toward the kitchen door, as she remembered the pained look on Lana's face, the moment she'd burned herself.

She'd seen that look before, many years ago, on Padmé's face, the day Ryoo had fallen and broken his arm. She sighed, as she looked at her hand thoughtfully for a long moment.

Lana was so much like her mother, she thought to herself. In more ways, it seemed, than she had ever imagined.

* * *

><p>Luke stopped, as he stepped out from the house into the waning sunlight; he looked up, scanning the clear, dark topaz sky, as he tucked his hands back into his pockets, watching as the stars began to shine like brilliant diamonds in the clear early evening sky. It was getting cold already, and he felt a shiver run down his spine, as he started to trot out toward the workshop, as a cool gust of Tatooine's evening wind blew across the barren landscape.<p>

He shook his head slowly, as he trotted quickly across the shifting, crunching sand; he'd made no progress with Artoo earlier. He'd assumed that his family's faithful little droid had been damaged, somehow, yet he'd checked him out from top to bottom, and he'd been able to find nothing wrong with him. He was, for whatever reason, simply refusing to cooperate, which was something that Artoo never did, and it unnerved him, more than just a little bit.

"I hope Dad gets here soon_," _he sighed, as he reached up and pulled the workshop door open, and stepped quickly inside; he closed the door behind him and, shaking the sand from his tunic, he turned and looked around the dark, quiet workshop.

_That's funny_, he thought to himself, as he reached into his pocket for the small remote unit he'd tucked there earlier. He pulled it from his pocket, and, as his eyes scanned the still, quiet workshop, he pressed the button.

Luke turned and looked to his right, as he heard Threepio cry out from the small shock that the restraining bolt gave him. He watched, somewhat puzzled, as Threepio banged around against several old metal vaporator coils, as he tried to catch his balance, and then looked back at Luke.

"What are you doing hiding back there?" Luke asked, a puzzled, curious look on his face as he took a few steps over toward their golden protocol droid.

"It wasn't my fault, sir," Threepio said, waving his arms frantically as he finally managed to speak. "Please don't deactivate me!"

"Deactivate you?" Luke asked, taking another step closer to Threepio. "Why would I deactivate you, Threepio? What are you talking about?"

"I told him not to go, sir," Threepio said, very apologetically, as he gestured toward the rear of the shop. "But he's faulty, malfunctioning," Threepio continued, as Luke turned and looked at the small, open access door behind him. "He kept babbling on about his mission!"

"Oh, no," Luke groaned, as he turned and bolted back toward the door of the shop. He pulled the door open quickly, reaching over and grabbing a pair of field glasses that lay on the bench nearby, and then bolted out of the door into the cool evening air, as Threepio shuffled quickly through the shop, following as best he could.

Luke trotted up to the small ridge just behind the shop; he glanced down at the sand, and he could clearly see the telltale tracks that led off into the open dunes beyond the ridge. He glanced over his shoulder, watching for a moment as Threepio shuffled around the corner of the shop to join him, and then he lifted the glasses to his eyes, dialing them in as he scanned the dunes for any sign of their little droid.

"That Artoo unit seems to be something of a problem," Threepio said, shuffling up to Luke's side, watching as the sandy haired lad panned the glasses slowly over the sandy terrain. "These astrodroids are getting quite out of hand. Even I can't understand their logic at times."

"How could I be so stupid?" Luke sighed, lowering the glasses and looking out at the golden sand, as the last bit of Tatooine's larger sun began to slip below the horizon. "He's nowhere in sight," he sighed again, slapping the glasses firmly against his palm. "Blast it!"

"Pardon me, sir," Threepio said, as Luke looked back at him. "But, couldn't we go after him?"

"It's too dangerous, with all the Sand People around," Luke said, shaking his head firmly as he looked back out the dunes again. "We'll have to wait until morning," he said, turning his attention back to Threepio again. "And I told you to stop calling me sir," Luke chided, as he watched Threepio look at him, somewhat puzzled. "Call me Luke, just like you always have."

"I see, Sir Luke," Threepio replied, nodding his head firmly.

"Not Sir Luke," Luke sighed, shaking his head again, somewhat exasperated. "Just Luke."

The both turned and looked back toward the house, as they heard Owen's voice call to them. "Luke," Owen called, "I'm getting ready to shut the power down for the night."

"All right, I'll be there in a few minutes," Luke called, glancing over his shoulder toward the house. "Boy, am I gonna get it," Luke groaned, shaking his head again as he looked back out at the barren sand. "Dad is _not_ gonna be happy when he gets here."

"Come on," he sighed, as he turned and headed toward the house. "There's nothing we can do, now, so let's get indoors," he said, motioning for Threepio to follow him.

He paused, as he reached the edge of the shop, watching as Threepio walked up to join him; he glanced back out at the desert once again and, sighing deeply, they headed toward the house.

* * *

><p>Lana reached over to the control panel beside the door, as she opened the door and walked quickly into her parent's room; she smiled, as she quickly closed the door behind her, and took a long, deep breath, as the soft overhead lights slowly came up.<p>

She loved their room, and she closed her eyes for just a moment, as she took in the familiar scent; she could smell her mother's perfume, the one she had always worn, the one that her father had given her shortly after they'd been married. Padmé had never worn any other, and Anakin had replenished it through the years, as she'd needed him to. It was a scent she remembered from her earliest memories, one that instantly brought about feelings of love, home, and security, and those feelings were ones that she longed for now, welcome ones indeed, as she allowed them to wash over her for a moment, quietly pushing back the unnerving sensations she'd been feeling this evening.

She opened her eyes, walking quickly to the large, ornate dresser that stood near the wall directly across from the foot of her parent's bed. "Now, the only question is, where does Mother keep that stuff?" she sighed, under her breath, as she opened the large drawer near the center.

"Nope, not there," she said, frowning as she looked through her father's shirts for a moment. "Maybe it's in one of these smaller ones," she said, turning her attention to the small drawer directly next to it. She closed the larger drawer, and quickly pulled out the smaller, longer one, peering down into it curiously as she looked for the medication her aunt needed.

"Now we're getting somewhere," she smiled, as she saw the assortment of small items that lay strewn about the drawer; she dug through them, looking at them one by one, until her eyes suddenly found the one she was looking for, lying near the back of the drawer.

"There you are," she said, as she stuck her hand in and quickly made a grab for the small bottle of medication.

She paused, a curious, puzzled expression spreading across her face, as she suddenly heard the loud click that emanated from the back of the drawer; she felt the small, square spot in the drawer's bottom give way, just a bit, and she watched, her curiosity growing, as she suddenly saw the back of it drop forward, just a bit.

Lana placed the bottle of medication on the dresser in front of her, and, unable to resist her curiosity, she slowly pulled the drawer out farther, so that she could see it better; she narrowed her eyes, as she slowly pressed down the false back, and several shadowy objects began to take shape in the hidden compartment behind it.

"What in the world is this?" she whispered, mesmerized as she reached into the small, hidden compartment; she picked up the first one, the one that lay on top of the others, and pulled it out slowly into the light.

It was a small, ornate picture frame, like many of the others that adorned her parent's room. She held it up in front of her, gently wiping away the light layer of dust that lay on it with her hand, a growing sense of wonder spreading across her face as she studied the strange, peculiar image.

Lana immediately recognized the dress that the young woman in the picture wore; indeed, she had seen it just this morning, at the Royal Palace, yet it appeared newer and much more vibrant in the small image she held in her hands. It was a royal ceremonial celebration gown, the one worn by the Queen when attending official state celebrations, and she stood on the steps of the Palace, surrounded by dignitaries of all types, the bright sunlight shining brightly off its jewel-adorned collar and trim.

Yet, as lovely as the gown was, it was the image of the young woman who wore it that fascinated her the most; she was young, just barely into her teens, and a bright, vibrant smile was on her ceremonially painted face, as she handed a bright, glowing crystal orb to a large, bulky Gungan, who was himself dressed in ceremonial fashion.

"Why would Mother have an image of..." Lana whispered, very slowly, shaking her head in puzzled amazement, as she carefully studied the image in her hands; she paused, stopping mid-sentence, as her eyes scanned over the image, to the small group of people that stood just to the left, near the Palace doorway.

She brushed her fingers lightly over the image of the young boy who stood next to the tall, sandy haired young man beside him; she instantly recognized the man as a Jedi. Indeed, she had studied the Jedi extensively, read everything about them that she could find, which had been no simple task. Information about the Jedi was scarce, very much so, since Imperial law had instated on most of the homeworlds in the galaxy, including Naboo. Yet, Lana's tenaciousness had been rewarded, and she had gleaned enough information from books and bits and pieces of databanks to instantly recognize the padawan braid that hung near the young man's right ear. But, even as fascinated as she was to see an image of a real Jedi, she was even more stunned by the appearance of the young, sandy haired boy that stood by his side.

It was Luke, she thought to herself, shaking her head slowly as she reached up and took down another small picture frame from one of the small shelves that adorned the mirror of her parent's dresser. She placed it next to the mysterious image in her hand, comparing the childhood image of her older brother with the young boy in the picture.

Lana's fascination grew, as she switched her eyes quickly from one picture to the other; they could have been twins, she thought, though the boy in the mysterious photograph seemed much more pensive and thoughtful, his face barren and devoid of the bright smile that was on her older brother's. Yet there was no denying the likeness, and, as her nimble mind worked feverishly to make sense of what she was seeing, she turned her eyes back to the young woman again, the young Queen who stood a short distance from them.

There was no denying the likeness, as she reached up and placed the picture of Luke and Leia back on the shelf, turning her eyes back to the mysterious image again; she narrowed her eyes, bringing the picture closer to her face, as she tried to visualize the young woman in her mind's eye, to see through the white and red ceremonial makeup that adorned her face.

"What's going on?" Lana whispered, as she looked back up at the mirror in front of her; she could feel her heart begin to pound in her chest, as she looked at her own face, then the young woman in the picture, and then back again.

It didn't make any sense, she thought, as she rubbed her fingers gently over the picture in her hands; yet something, deep down inside her, told her who the young woman in that picture was, though her mind told her that what she was thinking was impossible.

Lana's brow furrowed, as she suddenly felt something small and round on the back of the picture; she turned it over, rather quickly, and her breath caught in her throat once again, as he eyes focused on the small object, held in place by a small piece of tape.

She gently pulled it loose, holding it up in front of her, watching as the soft light of her parent's room reflected brightly off the small, translucent blue datadisc. She studied it for a long moment, and then, laying the picture and the disc down gently on the dresser in front of her, she turned her attention back to the drawer again, her curious, eager mind working frantically, as she reached back into the drawer and pulled out the remaining object that lay there in the darkness.

Lana's mouth dropped open in shock, as her fingers closed around the smooth, metallic cylinder; she looked at it, watching as the light shone brightly off of its smoothly polished surface, as she pulled it gingerly from the drawer and held it up in front of, turning it slowly in the soft light.

She brushed her fingers, almost reverently, along the sandy blond braid that was attached to the metal ring near the light saber's handle. "Oh, my gosh," she whispered, in complete shock and amazement, as she turned the elegant weapon over, very gingerly, in her small, trembling hands. "What is going on?" she said, her voice barely audible, as she felt her entire body begin to tremble as she looked back at the picture that lay on the dresser in front of her again.

Lana almost dropped the light saber; she snatched it from the air, holding it tightly in her fist, as she jumped, quite violently, as Sola's voice suddenly called out from the kitchen. "Did you find anything, Lana?" she called, as Lana closed her eyes and clutched her hand to her chest, frightened out of her wits, her breath coming short and heavy.

"Yes, ma'am," she called, as she hurriedly closed the drawer, gathering up the medication, and the other items she'd found, into her hands. "I'll... I'll be right there."

Lana turned and trotted quickly across the hallway to her room; she opened to door, and, running quickly to her bed, she tucked the mysterious items underneath her pillow, and then trotted over to the small bench where her droid, Kayko, sat quietly.

"Kayko, wake up," she said quietly, tapping her droid on the shoulder several times, and then turning and picking up the medication she'd retrieved from the bed as Kayko's blue eyes lit up brightly.

"Oh, is something wrong, my lady?" Kayko asked, looking around the room curiously, as she watched Lana walk back up to her again and place her fingers gently over her mouth.

"I don't know," Lana whispered, shaking her head firmly. "But I'm going to need your help in a few minutes," she said, turning and pointing toward the small computer workstation in the corner of her room. "I want you to plug yourself in, and get us into the library archives at the Royal Palace, understand?"

"Why, of course, my lady," Kayko said, standing up slowly as she looked back at her young mistress, obviously puzzled. "But, if you don't mind me asking, why are we attempting to access the library at this hour of the night?"

"Because I need some answers," Lana said, glancing back at the pillow where she'd hidden the items she'd retrieved from her parent's room again. "I'll be back in just a little while," she said, turning her face back to her droid again. "You just get us logged in, and when I get back, I'll tell you what we're looking for, okay?"

"Yes, my lady," Kayko replied, watching as Lana turned and trotted back out of her room, closing the door quietly behind her. She stood there quietly for a moment and then, her actuator motors whining smoothly, she walked over to the small workstation and powered up Lana's computer, as she prepared to plug herself in.

* * *

><p>"Luke?" Owen called, squinting in the bright sunlight that filtered through the skylight above the large, domed ceiling as he stepped into their main living area. "Luke!" he called again, putting his arm through the sleeve of his tunic and pulling it up over his shoulder; he glanced around for a moment and, hearing no reply, he strode slowly toward the kitchen, his well-weathered fingers working quickly as he fastened the buttons on his tunic, one by one.<p>

He glanced up from the last one, smoothing his tunic with his hands as he saw Beru turn and smile at him. "Good morning," she chimed happily, over the soft hum of the food processor that rested on the counter in front of her. She glanced back over at Shanda, taking another bundle of freshly cut vegetables from her. "You slept in this morning," she said, as she went back to dropping the freshly cut vegetables into the whirring, humming device.

"Well, I didn't mean to," Owen sighed, ambling over to where she stood; Beru stopped working for a moment, gazing up at him with a smile, as he leaned down and kissed her gently. "I had a little trouble sleeping last night, with everything that's going on," he said, leaning close to Shanda as he hugged her warmly and kissed her gently on the cheek.

"You weren't the only one," Shanda groaned, quite sleepily, picking up the small towel that rested on the counter next to her. "I don't think I slept a wink last night, and neither did Luke," she said, tossing the towel back onto the counter in front of her.

"Speaking of Luke," Owen inquired, glancing back over his shoulder toward the main living area, "has anyone seen him this morning?"

"He was up early," Beru replied with a nod, as she dropped another bundle of vegetables into the food processor. "He said he wanted to get an early start looking for Artoo," she said, watching as her husband and daughter exchanged a worried glance.

Owen stood their quietly for a while, his thoughts drifting back to the disturbing news Luke had shared with them when he'd come back in from the workshop last night. "He could be just about anywhere by now," he said, as he took a long, deeply thoughtful breath. "Did he take Threepio with him?"

"I think so," Shanda replied, leaning back against the counter. "I heard him follow him out when Luke left, early this morning," she said, reaching up and brushing her hand through her bangs as her father nodded his head slowly.

Shanda could sense the worry, deep in in her father's heart, as she watched him turn and stride slowly back toward the living room. "Well, I hope he finds him, and soon," he sighed, picking up a large apple from the table and turning it over slowly in his hand as he paused near the doorway. "Or there'll be hell to pay when his father gets here," he quipped, turning a troubled face back to his wife and daughter again.

"Don't go too far," Shanda called, as she watched him walk slowly back through the doorway. "Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes."

She watched, with a deeply troubled heart, as her father, very quietly, disappeared through the door. "He's really worried," Shanda sighed, turning her troubled eyes back to her mother again.

"We're all worried, honey," Beru said with a nod. "But, if you want my opinion," she sighed, shaking her head slowly as she went back to her work again, "this is all just part of the plan."

"The plan?" Shanda asked, cocking her head curiously as she folded her arms across her chest. "What plan?"

Beru placed the last of the vegetables in her hand on the counter, and then turned to face Shanda; she took the small towel she offered her, and gazed down at her hands as she rested her hip against the cabinet. "You, of all people, should know," Beru said, gazing back up at her daughter's puzzled face with a smile, as she slowly wiped her hands on the small towel.

Shanda listened, with rapt attention, as her mother continued. "It's been so long, sometimes I think everyone's forgotten, even you," Beru sighed, shaking her head slowly. "Don't forget who you are, honey," she said, "and more importantly, don't forget who _they_ are, even if they don't know themselves."

"We've spent most of the last twenty years hiding," she sighed, as she tossed the towel onto the counter beside her. "Hiding from the Empire, from the past, from ourselves, and from each other."

"But we had too, Mom," Shanda replied, somewhat defensively. "I've talked about this with Master Obi-Wan, so many times," she sighed, her long, dusky red hair flowing around her shoulders as she shook her head with frustration. "You know what could have happened if Anakin and Padmé hadn't hidden all of this from Luke and Leia."

"I do," Beru replied, very calmly and thoughtfully. "I've heard Ben say it as many times as you have, that their lives could be in danger if the Emperor were to find out about them."

"Exactly," Shanda replied. "Everything that they did, everything we've done, has been to keep them, and Lana, safe."

"And yet now, it seems that Leia may be in trouble anyway," Beru said softly; she could see the worry in Shanda's eyes, as she turned them down slowly toward the floor in front of her.

"Life's not safe, honey," Beru replied, smiling softly as she reached over and gently squeezed her daughter's shoulder. "You can't stop what's supposed to happen from happening. You can change some things, yes, maybe even stop a few of them," she sighed, shaking her head. "But some things are just meant to happen. You know that, as well as anyone, living out here on the edge of the wastelands."

"I worried every time you left with Ben to go shuttle those children around," she said, sighing deeply as she spoke. "And every time you went to stay with him for your training sessions. You couldn't get home soon enough, as far as I was concerned, but I knew it was the right thing for you to do."

"And don't even remind me about that horrible ordeal with that bounty hunter," Beru groaned, rolling her eyes as she watched Shanda smile back at her. "I was bound and determined that you were going to give up being a Jedi, that you were never going anywhere with that crazy fool again, the day Anakin and Padmé brought you home," she smiled, watching as Shanda closed her eyes and laughed softly, shaking her head.

"I don't know much about the Force, and I don't pretend do," Beru said, shrugging her shoulders as Shanda gazed back up at her. "But I knew then that what you were doing was right, and that you can't stop what's supposed to happen from happening, no matter how hard you try."

"Luke and Leia, and Lana, have to find out about themselves, and who they really are," Beru said, turning back toward her food processor, as she picked up the small pile of vegetables she'd placed beside it a moment ago. "And nothing we do is going to stop that from happening, no matter how hard we try."

Shanda gazed at her mother thoughtfully, for a long moment, as she watched her switch the food processor back on and go back to her work. "So what do we do?" Shanda asked, very quietly.

"Well, it's not so hard for me, and your father," Beru sighed, as she dropped another couple of morsels into the small, humming machine. "We love you, all of you, and we're going to be here for you, no matter what."

Beru paused, as she gazed back into her daughter's troubled eyes. "But it's different for you," she said, nodding her head slowly. "You're a Jedi, and that comes with a lot of responsibility."

"Follow your heart, honey," Beru said softly, as she reached over and took Shanda's hand in hers. "And don't forget who you really are, and what it is that you're meant to do."

Shanda stood there quietly, as she watched her mother go back to her work, her own heart wrestling with those deeply rooted emotions, the same ones she'd been wrestling with for so many years. Her mother was right, and she knew it.

Somehow, the Force would reveal itself, and its intentions, to all of them. She wondered, as she gazed thoughtfully out of the window near them, across the bright golden sand, if Luke would be the first to find out how... and when.

* * *

><p>Anakin looked up from his seat in the pilot's chair, as he felt Padmé's hand fall gently on his shoulder; he smiled, as he saw her lovely face gazing down at him as she offered him the cup she'd brought him.<p>

"You looked thirsty," she smiled, as she watched him take the cup from her; she leaned down and kissed him gently on the cheek and, patting his shoulder several times, she walked over, very slowly, and took a seat next to him at the copilot's station.

"How do you _look_ thirsty?" Anakin inquired, grinning slyly as he raised the cup of juice she'd brought him to his lips.

"Okay, so you didn't look thirsty," she chuckled, wrapping her arms tightly around her knees as she leaned her head back against the chair, smiling softly at him. "I just knew you were."

"I don't know what I'd do without you," Anakin replied; he took a sip, swallowing slowly as he watched her laugh quietly for a moment, and then gaze out of the ship's wide cockpit window. They were still in hyperspace, and, placing his cup on the center console near him, he turned his attention back to ship's navigational computer, as his fingers flew quickly over the small control pad.

"One hour, forty seven minutes," he said, glancing back up at her as she turned a bemused smirk toward him. "Give or take ten minutes," he quipped, leaning back in his chair and placing his hands back on the control yoke. "Without Artoo, it's really hard to be precise."

"You were about to ask me how far out we were," he chuckled, the sparkle in his eye, and his mischievous smile, cutting her off just as she opened her mouth to speak. "I just knew you were going to ask."

Anakin watched her for a long time, studying her pensively as she giggled again, quietly, and then turned her eyes back to the cockpit window. He knew something was troubling her, deeply, and he knew what it was. He had sensed it before they had left home, as they'd said goodbye to Lana, even though she'd tried her best to hide it from him, and from her daughter. Padmé's Force abilities had grown tremendously over the years, and she was a formidable Jedi now, strong and powerful, not only in spirit, but in mind and body as well.

But, as strong as the both of them were, there was nothing that could match the strength of the mysterious bond that bound them together. Fueled by their love and devotion to one another, it had grown in direct proportion to their love over the years, and, as it had, it had become easier and easier for each of them to sense the others cares, thoughts, and feelings. It had been a source of true, heartfelt intimacy for each of them, as, with each passing day, they had grown closer and closer, until now it was hard even for them to tell where one's heart ended and the other began.

It was that same intimacy, now, that kept her from hiding her thoughts from him. "Come on, baby, talk to me," he said finally, as she turned her lovely, yet troubled visage back to him again. "You know we can't hide anything from each other," he said, smiling warmly at her as he reached over and took her hand gently in his.

Padmé sat quietly for a long time, gazing quietly at their clasped hands. "I was just wondering if we did the right thing," she said finally, after a long thoughtful pause.

"Hiding everything from the children," she said, shaking her head, a look of deep regret on her face as she saw the puzzled, troubled look on his own. "I'm starting to have my doubts about whether it was really the right thing to do."

"What do you mean, starting?" Anakin sighed, as he heard her finally voice what he knew that she'd been thinking. Padmé could see the same doubt in his own eyes, could feel the pangs of regret in his heart, as he looked back out toward the stars that streaked smoothly by them as the Avenger slipped through hyperspace. "We've both had second thoughts about that, for a long time, you know that. But we agreed a long time ago that it was what we had to do."

"Was it, Ani?" she asked, as her troubled eyes met his again. "I know we did it to keep them safe, because Master Yoda told us it was the only way, but did we really have to hide _everything_ from them?"

"I feel so guilty, like we've stolen something from our own children," Padmé said softly, gently tracing her fingers along the back of his hand as she held it tightly in her own. "They don't know the truth about anything," she continued, shaking her head slowly as she spoke. "We've forced them to live in a world that's not complete, a world where they don't really know anything about who they really are, or what they're supposed to be."

"Ani, they don't even know who _we_ are, really," she said, the frustration in her heart clearly evident in her voice, and her eyes, as she gazed back up at him. "They know we love them, more than anything, but there's so much that's missing, so much they need to know."

"It tears my heart out, every time I look at Lana, when she asks me about how things were, and I have to hide what I know from her," she said, her heart crying out to his as she gazed into his soft, compassionate eyes. "And don't even ask me how bad it hurts to hear my own daughter referred to as 'Leia Organa'," she snapped, squeezing her eyes shut as she heard her own voice repeat that name, the one she had grown to hate, as Leia's career in the Imperial Senate had evolved over the last several years.

"I know, baby, I know," Anakin sighed; he reached over and engaged the ship's full autopilot, as he swiveled the thickly padded pilot's chair to face her. "It hurts me to hear it, too," he said, leaning closer to her. "But you know why we did that. It was the only way we could keep her safe. Vader's agents are everywhere, if she'd gone into the university or to work in the Senate as a Skywalker, he'd have taken her a long time ago."

"A lot of good it did us," she snapped; Anakin could clearly sense the anger, and the fear, that rose in her heart as she spoke. "Our daughter's out there somewhere, in who knows what kind of trouble, and we don't even know if she's still alive," she said, her voice trembling as she fought back the tears that welled up in her eyes. "If we'd trained her, if we'd told her who she really was, then at least we'd know she had a chance of defending herself," she snapped, reaching up with her free hand and wiping away the tear that stood in the corner of her eye. "Now we don't know where she is, or if she's even..."

Padmé stopped, her lip trembling, unable to voice the rest of her thought. "Don't think like that," Anakin said softly, as he stood up and knelt slowly in front of her, reaching up and wiping away the remain tear that stood on her cheek. "Leia's going to be fine, I promise."

He watched her, as she sat there quietly for a long time; her hands were trembling, and he knew that she was hurting, as badly or worse than he was, and he wished, with all of his heart, that there was something he could do to take away her pain.

They had both struggled with this for a long, long time, indeed, since the time that Luke and Leia were toddlers. It had been clear, to both of them, how strongly the Force was with their children, yet, though they had spoken with Yoda about their concerns many times, he had steadfastly forbidden them to train either of them. Were either of them to gain a sufficient knowledge of the Force, Yoda had told them, then the Dark Lord would surely sense their tremors, and their lives would be in even more danger. No, he had told them, they must wait, and wait they did, with every passing day growing more and more difficult, as they watched their children grow up, blissfully ignorant of the abilities they possessed, and of the destiny that awaited them, while all the while watching Darth Vader's reign of evil spread farther and farther through the galaxy, even to their own precious homeworld of Naboo.

Anakin took another long, deep breath, as he gazed back at their clasped hands again. _When does the waiting stop_, he thought, as his thoughts centered on his three children. _When does all of this deception end? When do we get to be honest with them, all of them?_

"What do you want me to do?" Anakin asked finally, very softly, as he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it gently. "I said it a long time ago, and I'll say it again," he whispered, as he gazed into her deep, brown eyes. "I will do anything that you ask."

"I don't know," Padmé sighed, exasperatedly. "I don't know what we should do. But I do know we should have told them a long time ago, Anakin," she sighed, shaking her head slowly as her troubled eyes searched his again. "I don't care what Yoda, or Obi-Wan, or anyone else says, we should have told them the truth."

Anakin kissed her hand again, very gently, as he gazed silently at her for a long time. "You're beginning to sound like a rebellious, ambitious young padawan my old master knew a long time ago," he said, nodding his head slowly as he smiled up at her. "I think you've been around me for too long. You're starting to sound like me, questioning the eldest Council member's judgment like this."

"Well, maybe sometimes we have to follow our hearts instead of the rules," she said, smiling softly at him as she turned her eyes toward his again. "After all, didn't we do that a long time ago, anyway?"

"Yes, we did," Anakin nodded, sighing deeply. "But that was a little different."

"How?" Padmé asked, as she watched him run the fingers of his left hand slowly through his shaggy blond hair as he sighed, very deeply. "We followed our hearts, Ani," she said softly, as he turned his deep blue eyes back to hers again. "We did what we did because we loved each other so much, because we knew in our hearts that it was the right thing to do."

"And my heart's been telling me for a long time, that what we've been doing is wrong," she sighed, flopping back in her chair and gazing out of the window again, as the stars continued to slip by in the blackness as they hurtled through hyperspace. "I felt it even more today, when we were at the Palace with Lana," she said, glancing back toward him again.

"She deserves to know, Ani," Padmé said, shaking her head slowly as she gazed back at him. "Just like her brother and sister. All three of them do. It's not right for us to keep this from them any longer."

They sat there quietly for a long moment, gazing deeply into each other's eyes, until Anakin finally spoke. "You know, if we tell them, now, before the Council decides it's time," he sighed, placing both of his hands on hers as he took them tightly in his own, "that we're going to be going directly against the Council's wishes. Even if I _am_ the senior member."

"Master Yoda will be very upset with us," he said, raising his eyebrow as he glanced back up at her. "Not to mention," he sighed, "the kids are, very likely, going to be pretty upset with us, too. We're going to have a lot of explaining to do, and now may not be the best time to do it."

"I don't care," Padmé said softly, gazing deeply into his eyes as she squeezed his hand tightly. "I love them so much," she said, the love, and the anguish, that filled her heart clearly evident in her eyes as they pleaded with his. "We were going to have to explain things someday, anyway, and I want them to know who they are, and who we are, no matter what that means."

Padmé watched him quietly, as he turned his eyes down toward the bulkhead floor near him; he said nothing for a long time, as he gently traced his fingers over her soft, smooth skin as he held her hand in his. She knew, in her heart, that he was wrestling with the same thoughts, the same feelings that she was and, though they rarely spoke of it openly, she knew that it had been even more painful for him, as he had watched their children grow up in the shadow of Vader's empire, the mockery of democracy that the man who betrayed him, the Jedi, and everything Anakin had ever known or held dear, had created.

She watched quietly, as Anakin stood up slowly and, taking several steps back, leaned back against the bulkhead across from her. "He's haunted my dreams for too long," he growled, folding his arms across his chest as he gazed out of the cockpit window, looking far beyond the stars that swept peacefully past them.

"Vader?" Padmé asked, nodding her head slowly as she watched him glance back at her, a brooding, almost angry expression on his face.

"Yeah," he said, looking back out of the window again. "Damn you, Dooku," he growled again, his voice trembling with anger as the image of those haunting, yellow eyes filled his mind once again, as they had countless times before. "Damn you."

"This isn't just about Luke, and Leia, or Lana anymore, and what we have and haven't told them," he said. "You know that," he said, looking back at her again. "Don't you?"

"Everything we've done, we've done because we were waiting, waiting for something or someone to tell us it was time to strike back," he growled, shaking his head in frustration, as he allowed the feelings he'd suppressed for so long to break free. "And the whole time we've been waiting, that bastard kept following his master's orders without question," he said, his tone growing angrier with each passing second. "He just kept on killing us, never stopped," he said shaking his head in angry disbelief. "And even after he killed Palpatine, it just kept getting worse. He kept on killing, kept chasing us, kept driving us deeper and deeper into hiding."

"I'm tired of running, and I'm tired of hiding," Anakin snapped, quite angrily. "I want him to pay for everything he's done," he said, turning his angry eyes toward his wife again. "I have for a long, long time, ever since that night when Obi-Wan and I went back to the Temple, and I saw that..."

The powerful tremor that surged through the Force from him was almost breathtaking; Padmé swallowed hard, fighting back her own tears, as she sensed the remorse and regret that overwhelmed him, as the image of the young Twi'lek girl he'd found, that terrible night, filled his mind again.

"It wasn't your fault, Ani," she said softly, reaching up and wiping away the tear that trickled slowly down her cheek, as she watched him blink his own glistening eyes hard, several times, as he gazed quietly out into space. "You've blamed yourself for her death for so long, but there was nothing you could have done. You did everything you could," she said, as she watched him close his eyes and nod his head weakly. "You couldn't save them all."

"How many?" Anakin asked, looking at her again; Padmé gazed into his angry, steel-hard eyes for a long moment, as she felt that overpowering sense of remorse and regret begin to change, very slowly, into a strong, vengeful wrath. "How many have to die before we stop him, Padmé, before he pays for the things he's done?"

Padmé watched him, somewhat curiously, as he suddenly jerked himself away from the bulkhead and strode quickly past her. "Where are you going?" she asked, as she watched him walk silently back through the bulkhead doorway toward the cargo hold. She sat there quietly for a moment; she knew, in her heart, that she'd awakened something deep inside of him, something that he'd struggled to keep hidden for a long, long time. She sat there, wondering in her heart if she'd done the right thing, until she saw him reappear again through the doorway.

She glanced down at the large satchel in his hand, as he walked over slowly and stood beside her. "Here," he said quietly, as he held his hand out to her, and helped her up from the chair where she sat. "Go ahead and get dressed," he said, as he placed the satchel with their equipment in her hand.

Their eyes met again, as she took the satchel from him. "I'm tired of hiding," Anakin said finally, very softly, as he reached up and gently caressed her cheek, a determined, resigned smile on his lips as he spoke. "To hell with the Council. These are our children we're talking about. Nobody's going to tell us how to raise our children," he said, shaking his head slowly. "Not anymore."

"And if Vader has anything to do with what's happened to my daughter," he said, shaking his head slowly, the anger that brewed inside him clearly evident in his eyes, and his voice, "then I'm going to make sure they answer for it."

"Are you sure about this?" Padmé asked, very softly, squeezing his shoulder tightly.

"I've only been more sure of one thing in my life, and I think you know what that was," Anakin replied, nodding his head slowly as he watched her smile back at him. "We'll see Luke in a couple of hours. I think it's time our son learned who his mother and father really are."

Padmé closed her eyes, and she wrapped her free arm tightly around his neck as he pulled her to him and kissed her, very tenderly, for a long moment. "I love you," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut tightly as she pressed her cheek against his, hugging him tightly.

"I love you, Angel," he said softly, as he gazed deeply into her eyes for another moment. "Don't worry," he said, smiling softly at her as he brushed his hand gently through her long, wavy tresses. "Everything's going to be okay. We'll get through this, and we'll find Leia," he said, nodding his head firmly. "You'll see."

"Now go," he nodded, as he nudged her toward the passenger bench behind them. "I'll change when you're done."

Anakin sat back down in the pilot's seat, swiveling it around slowly and watching her, as she walked over toward the bench and placed their satchel on it. He sighed, very deeply, bridging his fingertips thoughtfully in front of him, as he watched her sit down and begin to unfasten the buttons on her tunic, and then turned his chair and his eyes back toward the stars that streaked past them as they hurtled toward his old home planet.

He had always known that things would change, someday. And it seemed, he thought to himself, as he reached down and called up their nav computer's time clock, watching as the seconds ticked slowly away, that that day had finally arrived.

* * *

><p>Lana reached up and rubbed her eyes, sleepily. "Perhaps we should stop for the night, my lady," Kayko said, her electronic eyes studying her mistress carefully. "You haven't slept more than a few hours tonight."<p>

"No," Lana replied, quite flatly, reaching over and picking up her cup again; she paused, as she took a long sip of what was left of the hot, spicy beverage her aunt had prepared for her, and then turned her attention back to her computer display again as she placed the cup back on her desk.

"I'm not giving up, not now," she said, as she leaned a bit closer to the display, studying the information on the screen in front of her, blinking her eyes as she scrolled slowly down the screen.

"And you're sure this was all you could find?" Lana asked, watching as her droid nodded her head firmly.

"Positive, my lady," Kayko replied, glancing down at the flashing bundle of optical cables that lead from the port on her chestplate to the access terminal near Lana's computer. "I've cross-referenced every databank we have access to, and this is the only intact list that I could find," she said, as Lana turned her inquisitive green eyes back to her screen again. "All other information in the government archive database is restricted to local access only."

Lana looked carefully at the list on her screen. "You're sure that this is the complete list, every queen that ever served, right?" she asked, glancing back at Kayko again.

"Yes, my lady," Kayko replied, her blue eyes 'blinking' brightly, as Lana studied the list closely. "Or, as complete as I could find. I had to build the list from several outdated databanks. There isn't much left in the historical archives, not since the Empire took control years ago, anyway."

"It'll have to do," Lana sighed, as she looked at the rag-tag list that her droid had assembled from the various databanks that still existed. "Okay, so," she said, picking up the picture she'd found again, looking at it thoughtfully, "how old would you say that this girl is, Kayko?' she asked, handing the picture to her droid and watching as she studied it carefully for a moment.

"My best estimate would be somewhere in her early teens, perhaps thirteen or fourteen years of age," Kayko replied matter-of-factly. "The ceremonial makeup makes it difficult to judge by facial features alone, but, estimating the width of her hips and her current stage of breast development, I'd say that she's just recently entered her child bearing years," Kayko said, watching as Lana took the picture from her. "Just like you, my lady."

Kayko cocked her head, curiously, as Lana tossed her a bewildered smirk. "I taught you _way_ too much about human physiology," she said. "And I'll have you know my child-bearing years are still a long, long way off."

"Oh, not at all, my lady," Kayko replied, quite eagerly. "Actually, with the onset of puberty eight months ago, you're already quite capable of bearing children. All that's needed is to find a suitable human male, of appropriate age, and, once the rituals of courtship are complete, the two of you would be able to mate and..."

"Kayko!" Lana laughed, very softly, staring at her droid in stunned amusement. "I'm not interesting in exploring Mother's future as a grandparent right now," she laughed, tapping the picture with her finger, as she held it up to her droid's face again. "I'm interested in finding out about her past."

"Besides, that's Luke, or Leia's job, first," she sighed, looking back at her computer's display again. "I want to be an aunt before I'm a mother," she said, as she studied the list in front of her quietly for a moment.

"Okay, so, Mother just had her forty-fourth life day three months ago," Lana said, her nimble mind working feverishly as she turned her attention back to her task. "So that would have been thirty years ago, if what we're thinking is correct."

"Kayko," Lana said, frowning at the immense list that her droid had assembled; Naboo's government had existed, almost unchanged, for thousands of years, and, since the queen could only serve a limited number of terms, the list that Kayko had assembled was daunting, indeed. "This list is way too long. Filter out everything except the ones that fall within five years of the time we're looking for."

"Yes, my lady," Kayko replied; the optical cables that protruded from her chestplate flashed brightly, and Lana kept her eyes focused on her display as the list began to filter down, very quickly, to only a fraction of what had existed before.

"The only problem is," Lana sighed, as she scrolled through the immensely shortened list on her display, "the queen never used her real name, to protect herself, and there was no real rhyme or reason to the name she chose," she said, resting her chin in her hand as she stared at her computer. "And there are no pictures, so how do we find out if one of these is her?"

Lana looked at Kayko again, as she suddenly heard her speak. "Interesting," Kayko said, turning her blue eyes back to her mistress again. "I've located something rather unusual, my lady."

"What?" Lana asked, her expression growing more curious as she watched her droid sit quietly for a moment.

"Well," Kayko quipped, turning in her chair to face Lana, "I've searched the list, attempting to narrow down the list of potential matches according to your mother's age," she said, as Lana listened intently. "While I haven't found an exact match, I've discovered a serious anomaly in the data at precisely the point where your mother's entry would be, if she did in fact serve as queen for any length of time."

"Where?" Lana asked, glancing back at her computer again. "Show me."

"Of course," Kayko replied, her cables flashing brightly again, as she removed another subset from the datastream she was working with. "I'm bringing it up on the monitor now."

"If you'll notice, my lady," Kayko continued, as Lana leaned a bit closer to her computer, studying the display with rapt attention, "The royal cycle has always spanned a fixed number of years. Each queen has served her appointed term and, when that term expired, she was eligible for reelection for one additional term only."

"Only seven times, in documented history, has a queen served more than one term," Kayko continued. "I've been able to account for only six of those instances where the queen has served consecutive terms, resulting in the anomaly, which you can see here."

Lana's mouth dropped open, in curious amazement, as she looked at the two records that Kayko's metal finger pointed to. "There's a two term gap, right above Queen Jamilla," Lana said, looking back at her droid again. "The service dates don't match up," she said, shaking her head slowly, as Kayko nodded in agreement. "According to this, we didn't have a queen for a full two terms of the royal legislature."

"Which is highly unlikely," Kayko replied. "Such a gap in the normal functions of our planet's government would surely be documented elsewhere, even with the Empire's censorship," she said, studying her mistress closely as she turned her curious, bright eyes back to her computer again.

"But I've been able to find no trace of any such gaps, only a few references to a queen who's name doesn't appear in this list," Kayko continued, her nimble positronic brain processing the information that her young mistress had requested as quickly as she could. "Those same references seem to fall within that same missing time period."

"So, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Lana asked, leaning back in her chair and regarding her droid with a deeply curious expression.

"I'm not certain, my lady," Kayko replied, cocking her head again as she glanced back at Lana's computer. "But, if I were to venture a hypothesis, I believe I could only come up with one that fits this current scenario."

"Somebody erased the data," Lana interjected, her own nimble mind coming to the conclusion that she knew, instinctively, her droid had arrived at. "Someone's altered the database, removing almost every record of whoever served in this time period here," she said, pointing to her display as she smiled back at Kayko slyly. "It's just like they didn't want her to be found," she sighed, looking back at her computer again. "Or for anyone to find her."

"My conclusion exactly, my lady," Kayko chimed, nodding her head in agreement as Lana smiled back at her. "It's the only logical conclusion that makes sense. And, if I may say so without sounding overly arrogant," she said, as Lana grinned back at her, "had it not been for the archive you discovered, and my detecting the temporal anomaly, and the mismatch on the royal titles elsewhere in the historical archives, it would have been almost impossible to detect."

"You said she had a name," Lana said, glancing back at the picture in her hand thoughtfully for a long moment. "What was it?" she asked, turning her eyes back to her droid again.

"The references that I found indicate that she was known simply as Queen Amidala," Kayko said, watching curiously as Lana leaned back in her chair, holding the picture she'd found in her mother's room almost reverently, as her bright green eyes studied it carefully for a long time.

"Queen Amidala," Lana sighed, shaking her head slowly as she touched the glass of the small frame, just to the right of the lovely, mysterious young woman's image.

Lana turned the picture over carefully; she glanced back down at her desk, as she shifted her attention to the translucent blue datadisc that lay on the desktop near her.

"The answers are in here," Lana said, very quietly, as she held the disc up, turning it over slowly in her fingers. "I know they are," she said, turning her curious, determined eyes back to Kayko again. "I don't know how I know, Kayko, but I just do."

Lana placed the picture back on her desk, as she sat up, quite suddenly, and leaned close to her computer again. "New task, Kayko," Lana said, as she glanced at the disc thoughtfully, almost reverently for a moment, and then popped it quickly into the access slot of her computer. "Let's see what's on this disc."

Lana sat there quietly, for a long moment, as her screen suddenly went black; she blinked her eyes, several times, adjusting them to the sudden darkness, and then glanced over at Kayko as she heard her speak again.

"The data on the disc appears to be encrypted, my lady," Kayko said, cocking her head again, the bright white and blue lights of her optical cable reflecting off of her smooth, silver panels as they sat there in the darkness, side by side. "The entire disc is sealed," she replied, watching as Lana sighed deeply, and then flopped back in her chair, disappointedly.

"Can you bring up the access point?" Lana asked, her nimble mind racing almost as fast as Kayko's.

"I think so," Kayko chimed, as her cables began to flash brightly again. "I'll try to bring up the main passkey program on the monitor."

Lana turned her attention back to her computer's dark display, as she waited, quite impatiently, for the passkey program to appear. She blinked her eyes again, squinting for a moment, as the screen suddenly flashed, quite brightly, and then went dark again, as a series of green and yellow text messages began to scroll quickly across it.

"It's a riddle," Lana said softly, her heart beginning to flutter with excitement as she quickly read the message on her computer screen, just above the small, blinking yellow input cursor. Kayko turned her own rapt attention to Lana's computer, listening intently, as her mistress began to quietly read the message that had appeared on her display a moment before.

_The past remains, though hidden here_

_Concealed from death, from hate, from fear_

_With crystal wings, and love untold_

_The future, with love, she does behold_

"Lovely," Kayko chimed, as she and Lana exchanged a curious glance, as Lana finished reading the poignant, haunting riddle.

"It is," Lana sighed, shaking her head slowly as she gazed back at the beautiful, mysterious message; she could still feel her heart pounding wildly, and she reached over and picked up her cup again, holding it carefully in her trembling hands as she finished the last of the warm, sweet beverage.

"The answer is the passkey, obviously," she said, placing her cup back on her desk and leaning back in her chair again; she drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around them, as she rolled the simple, haunting riddle over and over in her mind.

"With crystal wings, and love untold," Lana said softly, a deeply thoughtful look on her young face. "Could it be that simple?" she asked, suddenly looking back at Kayko again.

"I beg your pardon, my lady, but do you think you know what this means?" she asked, her electronic eyes following her mistress as Lana suddenly stood up out of her chair and walked quickly, but quietly, toward the door to her room.

"We'll find out in a minute," Lana said, pausing and looking back at Kayko as she slowly opened the door to her room. "Stay here, and be quiet. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Of course, my lady," Kayko replied, as Lana disappeared quietly down the hallway. She looked back at the display, and the riddle on it again, as she sat quietly in the dim light. "I do hope Mistress Lana knows what she's doing," she sighed, as she waited patiently for her to return, from wherever it was she'd gone.

* * *

><p>Lana opened the door to her parent's room, very slowly; she leaned around the edge of the door and peered inside, as she stepped quietly through the door, and into the softly lit room.<p>

She watched her aunt Sola for a long moment, as she stood silently just inside the doorway. They had both left the kitchen, just over an hour earlier, and, as Lana had retired to her own room, Sola had gone to Anakin and Padmé's. Lana closed her eyes, sighing with relief, as she listened to Sola's rhythmic breathing, as she lay on their bed, with the afghan she'd brought with her from the couch draped over her; she was asleep.

Lana's bare feet made no sound at all, as she walked, very slowly, over to her parent's dresser. She stopped, glancing over her shoulder one last time at Sola, and then turned her attention to the small shelves that lined the mirror of her mother and father's dresser.

She raised up on her toes, as she very carefully took the small, crystal angel figurine down from the topmost shelf; she held it tightly in her trembling hands, looking at it silently for a moment, as she watched the soft moonlight from the window nearby glint brightly through its smoothly polished, faceted surface. She smiled, as she watched the light break into multi-colored prisms, dancing smoothly across the floor beneath her, as she turned the precious treasure over gingerly in her small hands.

As quietly as she could, Lana turned and walked slowly back toward the doorway, glancing over at Sola again, as she clutched the small angel figurine close to her chest. She reached down and, with a soft sigh of relief, she pulled the door closed, very softly, behind her, and then headed back to her room.

* * *

><p>"Do you still have the passkey program up, Kayko?" Lana asked, glancing over at her droid excitedly as she closed her door, and then started across the room toward her.<p>

"Yes, my lady," Kayko said, watching as Lana sat down quickly in her chair beside her. "Have you found something?" she asked, quite curiously, as Lana nodded her head firmly.

"Maybe," Lana sighed, her voice trembling as she cradled the small, precious figurine in her trembling hands. "I think this may be the key to the riddle," she said, turning her excited, vibrant green eyes back to her droid again.

"Daddy bought this for Mother, a long time ago, just after Luke and Leia were born," she said, looking at the small crystal angel fondly, as she brushed the light coat of dust from it with her fingers. "He said it reminded him of her, and of Luke and Leia," she smiled, quite brightly, as she gazed at the beautiful crystal angel, as she stood quietly, her wings outstretched, over the two small children that played at her feet.

"Mother said that he asked her if she was an angel, the first time he ever met her," Lana said, smiling back at her droid, as she listened intently to her. "He's called her his angel, ever since," she laughed, very softly, as she rested the small figurine gently in her lap.

"And you think that this might be the key to the riddle, my lady?" Kayko asked, as she watched Lana study the small figure very carefully in the soft light of her computer's display.

"We'll find out in a minute," Lana said, her voice still trembling as she reached over and picked up the small pocket lamp that lay on her desk. "Whatever happens, I can't break this," she sighed, shaking her head as she spoke. "Mother would be heartbroken, and I'd hate myself forever. This means so much to her," she said, exchanging a nervous glance with her droid again.

"Here, hold this light for me, Kayko," she said, as she handed the small torch to her droid. "I need your help. I'm not taking both hands off of this."

Lana turned the small figure over, very slowly, as Kayko switched on the torch and directed the strong, white beam of light onto it. She studied it, very carefully, as she looked for anything that could give her a clue to the riddle that waited on her computer's screen.

"I thought that maybe there'd be something written somewhere, maybe a note on the bottom or something," Lana sighed, somewhat disappointed, as she examined the small angel figurine closely. "But I don't really see anything," she said, glancing up at her droid again. "Not even a signature of whoever made it."

"Perhaps this isn't the clue we're looking for," Kayko replied, as encouragingly as she could, as she held the small lamp perfectly still, directing its light on the small crystal sculpture.

Lana froze, as her sharp eyes caught sight of the string of letters that suddenly appeared, then disappeared, deep inside the small, crystal figure, as the light from Kayko's torch passed through it as she turned it over slowly in her hands.

"Wait a minute," she said, very softly, as she gently rolled the figure back the opposite way, just a bit; she smiled, as she saw the small, three-dimensional letters appear again, and then fade, as she continued to turn it in the strong light of her torch.

"Daddy, you're a genius," she grinned, as she turned the figure back just a bit, and saw the three dimensional letters, hidden deep inside the small figure, begin to glow again.

"I beg your pardon, my lady, but have you found something?" Kayko asked, her electronic voice clearly laced with excited anticipation.

"I think so," Lana said, her own voice trembling with excitement as she held the small figure up, very carefully, in her hands. "Put the lamp under the base, Kayko," she said, nodding at her droid as she slid a little closer to her. "Hurry."

Lana held her breath, as she watched her droid place the small pocket lamp directly under the figure's base, directing its pure, white light up through it. She smiled, glancing back excitedly at Kayko again, as the message appeared, almost magically, across the lovely angel's outstretched wings.

"There it is, Kayko," Lana giggled excitedly, as she shrugged her shoulders. "Clear as crystal."

"How very fascinating," Kayko replied, as her positronic brain quickly reversed and decoded the message from her position across from her mistress. "Three-dimensional laser imprints, burned into the figure's crystal structure with pinpoint accuracy. They'd be completely invisible, unless illuminated as we have just now," she said, nodding her electronic head firmly. "Your father really is quite clever... for a human being, of course."

"And if I may say so," Kayko observed, as she watched Lana look at the brightly shining crystal figure with a smile, "That message is quite appropriate."

"It sure is," Lana sighed, shaking her head slowly as she looked at the message that shone from the angel's crystal wings. "_The Light of the Future will show you the Past_," she said softly, as she smiled back at Kayko again. "Only Daddy would have thought of that, and made us use a light to find it."

Kayko watched quietly, as Lana sat the figure down, very carefully, on her desk. "Now," she sighed, quite nervously, as she looked back at Kayko again, "Let's see what he wants us to find."

Lana paused, just as she reached for her keypad, as she heard Kayko's voice again. "Are you certain that he wants us to find it, my lady?" she asked, watching as Lana sighed again, quite deeply. "Perhaps they never intended for us to find any of this."

"I can't believe that," Lana said, after a long pause, shaking her head slowly. "Not after what he told me tonight, just before they left."

"What did he tell you?" Kayko asked, tilting her head again curiously, as she watched her mistress smile, very softly, as she lifted her hands from her keyboard, leaning back in her chair.

"Just before they left tonight, Daddy came in to talk to me," Lana said, looking back at Kayko thoughtfully. "I wasn't really sleeping, and I felt his hand on my shoulder when he came in and sat down on the bed beside me..."

"_Hey, Princess," Anakin said, smiling fondly at her as she rolled over onto her back, rubbing her eyes sleepily. "Did I wake you?"_

"_No, Daddy," Lana said, gazing up at him with a sleepy smile as she reached over and turned on the lamp next to her bed. "I was just dozing, looking out at the stars," she said, as she lifted herself up on her elbows._

"_Mm,hmm," Anakin mused, chuckling quietly to himself as he watched her lift her hand to her mouth and yawn deeply. "Sure you were," he said, reaching over and squeezing her shoulder gently as she grinned back at him sheepishly._

"_Are you and Mother getting ready to leave?" she asked, her countenance growing more concerned, as she watched him nod his head slowly._

"_We'll be leaving in a few minutes," Anakin said, gazing fondly at her as she sighed, and leaned back against her pillow, nodding slowly. "Your mother's in the kitchen, helping Aunt Sola find everything you two might need over the next couple of days," he said, watching as she sighed deeply, and nodded again._

"_Please be careful, Daddy," Lana said, reaching over and taking his hand in hers, squeezing it tightly. "I'm scared." _

"_Don't be scared, Princess," Anakin said, sliding a little closer to her as he squeezed her hand gently in return. "Leia's going to be fine, and so will your mother and I. We'll be home before you know it," he said, reaching up and caressing her cheek gently._

"_I hope so," Lana replied, nodding her head again. "I don't like being here without you," she said, looking down toward their hands as she tried to fight back the memory of the dream she'd had earlier. _

_Anakin sat there quietly for a long moment; he knew what she was feeling, what she was thinking, as he reached out to her with his feelings and, very gently, touched the Force that flowed through her._

_He smiled, as she looked up at him, at that very moment. "Lana," he said, his voice soft and calm as he gazed at her fondly, "I know that you've been feeling a lot of things lately, and that you're not really sure what they all mean."_

"_We don't have time to talk about them, right now, the way we need to," he said, raising his hand slowly as she started to speak. "But we're going to, I promise, just as soon as your mother and I get home, okay?"_

"_Okay, Daddy," Lana said, looking up at him curiously, as he brushed his hand along her long, brown hair; she wasn't sure how, but she knew that he was comforting her, that he knew what she was feeling, and she felt the worry that lurked deep inside her heart begin to subside, as she looked at his calm, peaceful face._

"_If anything should happen while your mother and I are away, I want you to trust your feelings, and your instincts," Anakin said, nodding his head slowly as he gazed at her quietly. "Whatever your heart tells you, I want you to listen to it. I need you to look out for yourself, and for Aunt Sola. Understand?"_

"_Yes, Daddy," Lana said, nodding her head obediently, a curious smile on her face. "I will, I promise." _

"_I know you will," Anakin said; Lana closed her eyes, as he leaned down and kissed her very gently on the cheek, and, in like fashion, she returned his kiss, hugging him tightly as she did so._

"_I love you, Daddy," Lana said, smiling up at him. "Very much." _

"_I love you too, Princess," Anakin grinned, tussling her hair playfully. "Remember, trust your instincts, okay?" _

"_I will," Lana said, watching as he stood up slowly from the edge of her bed. "Be careful, please, and hurry home."_

"_We will," Anakin said, nodding his head firmly. "We'll see you soon," he said; he paused, as he reached down to turn off the light next to her bed._

"_Go back to sleep, sweetheart," he said, as he leaned down and kissed her again, then switched off the light. "See you soon," he said, and, turning quickly, he walked quietly out of her room, and disappeared down the hallway. _

Lana leaned back up to her keypad again. "Trust my instincts," she sighed, nodding her head firmly, as she began to key in the message she'd seen scrolled across the crystal angel's wings; she paused, taking a deep breath, as she waited, for just a moment, and then pressed the key on her keypad, watching as her computer began to work frantically.

Lana leaned back in her chair, her heart pounding in her chest, as her screen suddenly blazed to life; she felt her breath catch in her throat, as she gazed, in silent wonder, as her mother's image gazed back at her.

"Her Royal Majesty, Queen Padmé Naberrie Amidala," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears, as she cupped her hands over her mouth; she sat there, trembling, shaking her head slowly in stunned disbelief, as she began to read the information that filled the display in front of her. "Oh, Mother," she whispered, her voice barely audible, as Kayko looked on.

"Oh, my goodness," Kayko sighed, placing her hand gently on her mistress's shoulder as she watched Lana begin to sob, very softly. "My goodness, indeed," she said, as she quickly began to store the information on the mysterious databanks into her internal memory.

* * *

><p>"Lana?" Sola asked, very sleepily, as she raised her head from her pillow. "Is everything all right?" she asked, reaching over and switching on the light by the bed.<p>

Sola sat up, rather quickly, as she saw the tears that streamed down her niece's face as she sat quietly on the bed next to her. "Lana, honey," she said, the concern clearly evident on her face, "what's wrong?"

"Aunt Sola," Lana sobbed, her voice trembling, quite violently, as Sola slung the afghan off of her and sat up beside her. "I... I need you to tell me... tell me something," she said, as she turned her tear-filled eyes up to her, as Sola placed her arm tightly around her shoulder.

"Of course, baby," Sola said, as she hugged Lana tightly. "What is it? What's wrong?" she asked, as she watched Lana reach down, on the bed beside her, and pick up the small picture frame she'd laid there a moment before.

"Why... why didn't... any of you ever tell me... about this?" she said, her bright, tearful eyes pleading with her, as she watched Sola take the picture from her, a deeply worried, and puzzled, look on her face.

"Oh, my..." Sola gasped, lifting her hand to her mouth, as she looked at the picture inside the small, ornate frame. "Lana, honey," she whispered, looking back to her niece's tearful face again, "Where did you get this?"

"Where I... where I got it doesn't matter," Lana said, shaking her head firmly as she reached up and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her nightgown. "I know that's a picture of Mother," she said, turning her eyes back to her aunt again. "And... and I know that she was Queen," she sobbed.

"I... I know that there must have been a reason... why Mother and Daddy never... never told us about any of this," Lana said, nodding her head slowly. "I'm... I'm just trying to understand why," she said, looking back up at her aunt, as Sola placed her arm tightly around her shoulders again.

"Lana, honey," Sola sighed, fighting back her own wave of tears, as she felt Lana wrap her arms tightly around her, "Your mother and father love you all, so very much," she said, squeezing her eyes shut, as she felt Lana's body trembling in her arms. "Please don't think they ever lied, or hid anything from you, to hurt you," she said, lifting Lana's tear-stained face so that she could see her.

"There are a lot of things about your mother and father that you don't know, sweetheart," Sola said softly, gently wiping away some of the tears that stood on her cheeks. "Things that happened a long, long time ago, before you, or your brother, or your sister, were ever born."

"I gathered that," Lana said, reaching over beside her again; Sola watched, her mouth dropping open in disbelief, as she watched Lana place her father's old light saber in her hand. "I'm... I'm guessing that this was Daddy's," she said, sniffling hard, as she glanced up at Sola again. "Right?"

"Oh, God, Lana," Sola sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Where... where have you..."

"I told you, it doesn't matter," Lana snapped, squeezing her eyes shut tight. "I want to talk to Mother and Daddy," she said, watching through a haze of tears as Sola quickly placed the light saber, and the picture, on the bed beside her. "Now."

"Okay, honey, okay," Sola said, nodding her head firmly as she cupped Lana's crying face in her hands. "But settle down, just a little bit, and listen to me for a minute, okay?"

"O... Okay," Lana sobbed, nodding her head weakly as Sola gently wiped away some of the tears that flowed down her cheeks.

"Shhhh," Sola shushed, leaning forward and kissing her tenderly on the forehead. "Just settle down," she said, looking back at her with a reassuring smile. "Nothing's changed, honey," she said, shaking her head firmly. "Your mother and father are still here, and they're still the same as they were when they left this evening," she said, smiling softly at her. "You've... you've just found out a few things about them that they weren't quite ready to tell you just yet."

"But I want you to understand something, and you have to trust me on this," Sola said, gazing deeply into her troubled eyes as Lana listened intently to her, her sobs softening just a bit. "They were going to tell you, when it was safe. Everything that they did, they did to protect you, and Luke, and Leia," she said, shaking her head firmly. "Do you understand that?"

"No, not really," Lana sighed, as she reached up and wiped her eyes again on her nightgown's sleeve. "I mean, I believe what you're telling me is true," she said, shaking her head slowly. "But I just don't understand why."

"I want to talk to Mother and Daddy," Lana said again, firmly. "I want to talk to them now."

"Okay, honey," Sola replied, nodding firmly. "We'll call them just as soon as they get to Tatooine, and you can..."

"No," Lana snapped, shaking her head. "I want to talk to them now. I want to go to Tatooine, to Uncle Owen's, and I want to talk to them both."

"I know that all of this has something to do with Leia, I just know it," Lana cried, her voice trembling again, as the tears began to flow down her cheeks again. "I'm scared that something's going to happen to her, or to Mother and Daddy, and I want to be there, I want to talk to them NOW!" she cried, cupping her face in her hands, as she started to cry again, almost hysterically.

"Okay, baby, okay," Sola said, her heart pounding in her chest, as she caught Lana in her arms, holding her tightly as she collapsed into them. "Just calm down, just a little bit," she said, rocking her gently as her mind reeled frantically, as she realized that there was no other option than the one she knew they had to take.

"Just calm down," she whispered, turning her attention back to the hallway again. "Kayko!" she shouted, her own voice trembling, as she continued to rock Lana lovingly in her arms. "Kayko, get in here right now!"

"Yes, Miss Sola?" Kayko replied, walking quickly through the doorway; she paused, as she saw Lana clinging tightly to her aunt's chest, her soft, trembling sobs filling the room around her. "Is Mistress Lana all right?" she asked, her voice deeply laced with concern.

"She'll be fine, Kayko," Sola sighed, nodding her head firmly. "I need you to get Lana's things together, and take them out to the other ship in the hangar," she said. "Anakin said you know how to operate it, if we needed you to. Is that true?"

"Of course, Miss Sola," Kayko replied. "Master Anakin has fully prepped me on the complete operation of the T-47 in the event of an emergency."

"Well, we've got one now," Sola sighed, glancing back down at Lana again. "Get her things on board, and get the ship ready. We'll leave just as soon as she calms down enough. Understand?"

"Clearly, Miss Sola," Kayko replied, and Sola watched her as she turned and walked quickly back down the hallway toward Lana's room.

"Just settle down, honey, please," Sola sighed, closing her own eyes as she rubbed her shoulders gently. "We're going to go, just as soon as you're ready, I promise."

Sola opened her eyes, looking back out of the window near her, as her mind, and her heart, continued to race. She had known that, someday, this would happen. She just never imagined, as she glanced down at Lana, feeling her sobs begin to subside, only barely, that it would ever happen like this.

_Our story continues shortly!..._


	4. Chapter 4: Innocence Lost, Part 2

_**Chapter 4: Innocence Lost, Part 2**_

It always fascinated her, the way the stars transformed themselves from tiny pinpoints of light into the wide, dull-edged swirls that whipped past the ship's cockpit windows, as the sleek Naboo shuttle slipped smoothly through hyperspace. It was only the second time she'd been on it, and it still felt strange, and a bit foreign, not as warm and familiar as their other ship, the one she'd known all of her life. He father had only bought it a few months before and, except for a few short trips to test its systems, this was the first lengthy voyage the sleek, shiny new long range shuttle had ever seen.

It didn't even have a name yet, she thought with a sigh, as she slowly scanned the spartan, high tech cockpit with her brilliant green eyes. The _Avenger_, as they liked to call her, had been a part of their family since before she was born, and she had grown happily accustomed to its warm, weathered interior and cockpit strewn with familiar items that spoke silently of home and family. Indeed, she had even helped her father upgrade the ship's onboard computer just last season, and though she found its primary processor to be a bit archaic and a bit fussy at times, she had grown quite fond of it. It had been the ship that had brought her home when she was first born, and it had taken her, and her family, on many wonderful trips and adventures, never failing to bring her back to the one place she treasured most - home.

Lana looked up, managing a weak smile as her aunt Sola sat down quietly on the bench beside her. "She needs a name," she said quietly, as Sola cocked her head curiously.

"Who does?" Sola asked, shrugging her shoulders slightly, as she gazed, quite bewildered, at her niece again.

"The ship," Lana quipped, glancing around the cockpit again. "We haven't named her yet," she said, reaching down and rubbing her hand thoughtfully on the seat beside her. "She needs a name."

"Oh, I see," Sola sighed, grinning back at Lana as she settled down onto the wide, thickly padded passenger bench beside her. "Well, you'll have to see if you can come up with one that suits her."

"How much longer till we get to Uncle Owen's?" Lana asked, her expression growing a bit more serious.

"Kayko says we'll be there in a few hours," Sola said, placing her arm on the bench behind Lana's shoulders. "Your father taught her well, it seems," she nodded. "She seems to know just what she's doing."

"So, except for puzzling over a name for this shiny hunk of metal, how are you doing, honey?" Sola asked, as she reached up and brushed her hand gently through Lana's fine, dark hair, whisking it gently aside so that she could see her crystal green eyes better. "You holding up okay?"

"I guess so," Lana sighed, as she nodded her head slowly. "I'm still just trying to get my head around all of this," she said, as Sola leaned back against the bench beside her. "I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed."

"I know you are," Sola said quietly, resting her own head on her right hand, as she took Lana's gently in the other. "And I know none of this is easy for you," she continued, shaking her head slowly.

"I always knew that, someday, you'd find out about all of this," Sola sighed, glancing down at their clasped hands for a quiet moment. "And, to be completely honest," she sighed, looking back up at her niece with a smile again, "you're handling all of this a lot better than I thought any of you would."

"I'm just trying to understand why Mother and Daddy felt that they had to hide all of this from us," Lana said, shaking her head slowly, a deeply puzzled, somewhat painful look on her young face.

"Please don't blame them for any of this, Lana," Sola said, as she reached over and brushed Lana's long brown hair gently. "This has been so hard on your mother and father, for so long. You just know a few bits and pieces of what's turned out to be a very complicated story," Sola said, watching as Lana turned her attention back to her again. "When you know the whole thing, it'll all be much clearer to you, and I promise, you'll understand why they did what they did."

"You know, don't you?" Lana asked, her eyes fixed with rapt attention on her aunt's face, as Sola closed her eyes and, after a moment, began to nod her head very slowly. "Tell me, Aunt Sola," she asked, leaning a bit closer to her, her eager green eyes pleading with her. "Please, I know you know," she said, as Sola turned her eyes slowly back to her again.

Sola sighed, very deeply, as she gazed at her niece for a long, quiet moment. "You were supposed to hear all of this from your mother and father, not me," she said, a look of resigned defeat on her face.

Lana listened intently, as she felt her mother's sister squeeze her hand tightly. "Lana," Sola said, her tone growing deeply serious, "What I'm going to tell you goes back a long, long time, back before you, or your brother and sister, were ever born."

"How much do you know, honey, about how your mother and father got together?" Sola asked, curiously.

"Well, I know that Mother met him, a long time ago, when he was just a little boy," Lana replied. "She met him first on Tatooine, and then, about ten years later, they met again and fell in love, and they were married not long after that," she nodded.

"Hmmm," Sola chuckled, as her thoughts drifted back to those days, so long ago, when Padmé had first brought Anakin home to meet their family. "Well, that's one way to sum it up, if you want to skip out on all of the interesting and exciting details."

"I don't," Lana replied, shaking her head firmly, her expression brightening quite a bit at the thought of what Sola might be able to share with her. "I want to know what happened, and I want to know everything."

"Everything, huh?" Sola half laughed, half sighed, as she saw the eager, almost hungry look in Lana's eyes. "Hand me that picture, then," she said, holding out her hand as she gestured to the picture that lay on the bench beside Lana.

Lana listened intently, with a hunger and interest that she could seldom recall, as she handed the small, gold-trimmed frame to her aunt. "Do you know what was happening, here, when this picture was taken?"

"It was some kind of celebration, that's about all I know," Lana replied, turning her eyes toward the picture in her aunt's hands, leaning a bit closer to her.

"It was a celebration, all right," Sola said, nodding her head slowly as Lana looked back up at her again. "One of the biggest celebrations in Naboo's history, and your mother, and your father," Sola said, pointing to the little, blond haired boy in the corner of the image, "both played a big part in it."

"Daddy?" Lana said, in awestruck wonder, as she looked up at Sola in disbelief. "But he was just a little boy, then," she said, shaking her head slowly. "How could he..."

"You're father has never been 'just a little boy', young lady," Sola laughed, quite heartily, handing the picture frame back to Lana again.

"Oh, tell me, please, Aunt Sola," Lana begged, as she felt her heart begin to pound gently in her chest with excitement. "I want to know everything, everything there is to know."

"Well, It all started pretty innocently, I guess," Sola sighed, leaning back against the bench as she settled herself down beside her. "Your mother was a little younger than you, when she first got involved in the service academy."

Lana snuggled down on the bench beside Sola, holding her hand as tightly as she could; she listened with unwavering attention, soaking up every detail, every word, as Sola suddenly became her guide and teacher, leading her, with all of the care and love she could muster, into the past, into the world that her mother and father knew so very long ago.

* * *

><p>"How's that?" Luke shouted, over the sound of the wind that whipped past them as they zipped along over the barren, sandy landscape; he glanced back at his dusty, golden friend, the wind tossing his hair around wildly, as he leaned over into the engine compartment behind him.<p>

"Oh, that's much better, Master Luke," Threepio replied, his electronic eyes watching the intermix meters as they flickered, and then leveled out, as they felt the speeder surge forward with increased fervor, as the old engines began to hum smoothly.

"Sir," Threepio asked, turning his attention to Luke as he quickly closed the rear access panel and flopped down into the seat beside him, "I don't mean to imply anything, but are you absolutely certain that we're looking in the right direction?"

"I hope so," Luke sighed, squinting in the bright sunlight as he scanned the empty horizon with his eyes as he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. "You said he kept babbling something about his mission, right?" Luke asked, looking back at his droid again, as Threepio steered them across the desert.

"Yes, sir," Threepio replied, the sound of his actuator motors barely audible as he nodded his head. "But, you said yourself he seemed to be malfunctioning, acting strangely," he said, glancing back at Luke again. "This could turn out to be nothing more than a wild bantha chase."

"Well, it could be, but it's the best lead we've got," Luke sighed, reaching over and picking up the long range binoculars from the package tray behind him. "Leia was looking for an Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said, the tone of his voice growing somber and thoughtful, as the sound of his sister's heartfelt plea filled his mind again.

"Old Ben Kenobi lives out this direction, somewhere," Luke continued, gesturing toward the range of mountains that rose from the horizon a good distance from them. "If I know Artoo like I think I do, and he's trying to find this Kenobi that Leia's looking for, then it's a fair bet that Artoo thinks Ben might know where he is."

"After all," he sighed, as he raised the glasses to his eyes and scanned the scorched, golden sand again, for any trace of the little blue and white fugitive. "The tracks did head off in this direction," Luke said, dropping the glasses into his lap and sitting back in his seat again.

"Only thing is," Luke sighed, shaking his head slowly, as he glanced back toward the direction they'd come; only rarely had he ever been out this far, and the terrain was becoming increasingly unfamiliar. "I don't see how he could've gotten out this far by himself. We must have missed him, somewhere," he said, leaning against the side of the speeder and running his fingers through his hair again, a tone of deep frustration in his voice. "Dad's going to kill me, when he finds out we've lost him."

"Sir," Threepio said, as Luke turned his troubled eyes toward him again, "Would it help if you told him that all of this was my fault?"

"It might," Luke said, the hint of grin crossing his lips as he looked back at the tall, golden droid he'd known all of his life. "Dad's pretty attached to you, even though you don't seem to remember that," he nodded, as Threepio looked back at him. "He might only deactivate you for a day or two."

"Deactivate me?" Threepio cried, snapping his head back around toward the windscreen in front of him. "Oh my, well, on the other hand then," he said, the motors in his neck whining smoothly as he turned his golden face back toward Luke again, "it was you, after all, who removed the restraining bolt in the first place, Master Luke."

"Just drive, Threepio," Luke sighed, shaking his head as he leaned back in his seat again, folding his arms tightly across his chest. "Keep an eye on that scanner, and make for that ridge, just off to the left, there," he said, pointing toward the dark, angry red hills that rose into the golden, sun scorched sky.

He sat there quietly, as Threepio steered them toward the hills he'd selected; his thoughts drifted, as they had continuously since this nightmare had begun, back to his sister again. He could still hear her troubled voice, as he recalled the small snippet of the message Artoo had accidentally, or intentionally, shown him the night before. It troubled him deeply, almost as much as the nagging, troubling sensation he'd felt the day he and Lana had told her goodbye just a week before, when she left to return with Bail Organa to the Senate.

"_Why do you have to leave so soon?" Luke asked, as he carried Leia's bags out of the door of the house, with Lana trailing closely behind him. "You've got three days before the Senate's first session," he said, placing her bags on the ground beside the speeder that waited a short distance from the house. "Why don't you stay, and the three of us could go spend a couple of days out at the lake, at Aunt Sola's, before you leave?"_

"_Oh, please say yes, Leia," Lana pleaded, as Leia and Luke both watched her take Leia's arm and tug it, playfully. "That would be so much fun. We haven't been been to the lake at all this summer, and Aunt Sola says the water's perfect."_

"_I'd love to, Lana," Leia said, smiling back at her younger sister apologetically; she chuckled quietly to herself, as she watched Lana roll her eyes and sigh, deeply, already knowing the answer she was going to give her. "But Senator Organa and I have a lot of work to do, before the sessions get started," she said, glancing over and watching as Threepio stepped out of the speeder and picked up her bags. "I'm going to need both of those days to get everything in order."_

"_It would've been fun," Lana sighed, glancing up at her sister with a disgusted smirk, as Leia leaned down and kissed her playfully on the cheek. "You don't ever have time to just play anymore, you're always working," she said, as she reached up and hugged her sister tightly. "Daddy told you, just last night, that you need to take some time off, and you know he's right."_

"_I promise, Lana, as soon as I get back, the three of us will go spend a whole week up at the lake, and we'll make Mom and Dad come with us," Leia smiled, rubbing Lana's shoulders affectionately as she released her from her embrace. "All play, no work," Leia said, her own smile widening as Luke and Lana both returned it. "Just fun."_

"_You promise?" Lana asked, her green eyes sparkling as she watched Leia nod her head firmly._

"_Promise," Leia answered, turning her face to her brother again, as she heard him speak._

"_Okay, you heard her," Luke said, glancing back at Leia with a grin as he and Lana exchanged a nod. "We've let you off before, but we're going to hold you to this one, Sis," Luke said, rubbing Leia's back gently as she hugged him tightly._

"_Please do," Leia said softly, squeezing her eyes shut tightly as she squeezed him as tightly as she could. "I'm counting on you to. I need a break," she said, looking up at him with a tired, somewhat troubled smile._

_Luke's own countenance fell, just a bit, as he suddenly felt something; he wasn't sure what it was, but it was there, buried deep beneath that smile, deep inside Leia's heart, as their eyes met for that one, brief instant._

"_You take care of the squirt, here, okay?" Leia said, shifting her eyes back to Lana again, as Luke placed his arm around his baby sister's shoulder. "Keep her out of trouble, and don't let Mom and Dad spoil her too much."_

"_I'll do what I can," Luke nodded, as Lana wrapped her arm tightly around his waist._

"_Mistress Leia," Threepio said, turning his brightly polished, golden form toward her as he stepped up beside the three of them. "I'm afraid it's time for us to be going."_

"_Okay, Threepio," Leia replied; she watched him for a second, as he turned and shuffled back toward the speeder, where Artoo waited patiently for them._

"_I guess I better go," Leia sighed, smiling back at both of them. "Love you both. I'll see you in a week or two," she said, hugging each of them tightly one more time, and then turned and walked quickly toward the waiting speeder. "Take care of each other, and make Mom and Dad behave themselves, okay?" she called over her shoulder, as she slammed the sleek, streamlined transport's trunk closed._

"_You don't ask for much, do you?" Lana called after Leia, smiling brightly as Leia stopped just beside the speeder, and grinned back at her._

"_You can handle it, Squirt," Leia said, tossing her a wink. "You're a Skywalker, remember?"_

_Luke and Lana both stood there quietly, as Leia climbed into the speeder. They both waved, somewhat sadly, as they watched Artoo whisk her quickly down the long, winding path that lead to the house, and then looked back at each other, as it disappeared behind the trees._

"_Come on, Squirt," Luke said, smiling reassuringly at Lana as the two of them turned back toward the house. "What say we go down to the shop and meet Mom and Dad for lunch?"_

"_Can we?" Lana asked, looking up at him, her countenance brightening almost immediately._

"_Sure, why not?" Luke chuckled, and he sighed, quite deeply, as he watched his baby sister trot happily back into the house to gather her things, as he felt that faint, nagging worry deep inside his heart again._

_It wasn't Lana he was worried about, he thought to himself, as he turned and gazed quietly back down the road, back toward the direction where the speeder, and his twin sister, had gone a few moments before._

"Master Luke," Threepio called, glancing over at Luke again, as he suddenly snapped his eyes toward him, drawn from his thoughts by the droid's excited voice. "I think we may have something on the scanner," he said, gesturing excitedly toward the small screen on the console between them.

"You're right," Luke said, narrowing his eyes in the bright sunlight as he looked at the small, flashing gold indicator on the small screen. "It might be our little Artoo unit," he said, glancing back and nodding his head at Threepio again. "Hit the accelerator!"

* * *

><p>Lana's head was swimming; she sat there silently for a long time, her mind trying anxiously to fully understand everything that her aunt had told her. But, as overwhelmed as her mind was with trying to take in the unimaginable revelations the past few hours had revealed, her young heart was doing much better, as the shadow of doubt and fear that had filled it earlier began to be replaced by something much warmer, a deep sense of profound pride and admiration.<p>

"Everything they did, everything they gave up," she whispered, as she stared quietly at the image she'd found in her parent's room earlier that evening, "They did it all to protect us, didn't they?"

"Yes, honey," Sola answered softly, nodding her head gently.

It wasn't until she heard Sola's quiet, reassuring voice again that she finally moved. "Are you okay?" Sola asked, watching as Lana turned her bright, glistening eyes back toward her again.

"I think so," she replied, her voice trembling slightly, as she smiled back at Sola, her eyes shining like brilliant emerald jewels from the tears that stood in them.

"What's wrong, Lana?" Sola asked softly, squeezing her hand gently as she watched her niece reach up and wipe away the tear that trickled slowly down her cheek.

"Nothing's wrong," she whispered, her smile widening as she looked back up at her; Sola fought back her own tears, as she gazed through the ones that stood in Lana's beautiful green eyes, to the warm, happy light that shone behind them. "I always knew Mother and Daddy loved each other very much, and that they loved us, too," she said, shaking her head slowly, a look of awestruck wonder on her tear-streaked face. "I just don't think I ever really knew how much until now."

Lana looked over at the light saber that lay silently on the bench beside her; Sola had been right, she thought to herself, as she gently laid the picture of her mother down beside it, looking at the image of her mother and father with a sense of awestruck wonder.

"How much longer until we get to Uncle Owen's?" she asked, turning her glistening eyes back to Sola again.

"Not long," Sola replied quietly, smiling reassuringly at her.

"I hope not," Lana sighed, as she leaned back and rested her head against the smooth, cool bulkhead; she turned her head slowly, smiling back at Sola as their eyes met again. "I really want to see my Mother and Daddy," she said, very softly. "There's something I really need to tell them."

* * *

><p>"Dad!" Shanda called excitedly, as she darted quickly into the kitchen where her mother and father sat. "They're here," she said, holding tightly onto the edge of the doorway as she watched her parents jump up from their chairs, with a speed and alacrity she rarely witnessed.<p>

"I was hoping Luke would be back before they got here," Owen sighed, as he and Beru followed Shanda out into the living room. "Have you heard from him at all?" he asked; he felt his heart sink, somewhat, as Shanda looked at him, almost apologetically, shaking her head as they walked quickly toward the stairs that led up and out of the safety of the old homestead.

"No, Dad, I haven't," Shanda sighed, her long, dusky red hair tossing gently around her shoulders as she shook her head. "I would have thought he'd have been back by now, too," she said, as the three of them paused at the base of the long, narrow stairs.

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now," Owen said, as he grabbed hold of the small handrail and began to trot quickly up the narrow stairs. "Come on," he called, looking back over his shoulder at his wife and daughter as they stood there, looking quietly at one another, at the base of the stairs.

"No sense waiting around down there, you two," he said, shaking his head as he smiled slyly at both of them. "And if you think I'm going to break this news to them by myself, you're both sadly mistaken."

Shanda gazed up at him, watching as he walked out into the bright, golden sunlight. "Well, I guess he's right," she said finally, looking back at her mother's worried face again. "Besides," she said, grinning slyly as she took hold of the handrail, "It'd be cruel to make him face two angry Jedi alone."

"Well, at least he has you to protect him," Beru sighed, following along closely behind her daughter, as the two of them started up the stairs toward the bright sunlight - and the awkward, troublesome situation - that waited above.

* * *

><p>Owen raised his arm, shielding his eyes from the clouds of angry sand that the <em>Avenger's<em> landing thrusters sent swirling into the hot, dry air as she settled, with a firm thump, onto the barren desert floor.

"How do you think they're going to take the news?" Shanda asked, walking up slowly to her father's side and squeezing his arm gently.

"Better than I would, I hope," Owen sighed, smiling at her as reassuringly as he could.

The little trio turned their eyes back toward the sleek, golden ship, as they heard the actuator motors on its narrow landing platform begin to whine as it descended slowly toward the hot sand.

Shanda smiled, as she caught a glimpse of the two familiar figures that began to walk quickly down the ramp, and, following close behind her father and mother, they started across the sand toward them.

"If I didn't know better," Owen said, looking up at his stepbrother with a smile as he stopped just as the base of the ramp, "I'd swear I caught a glimpse of some gray hair under the hood of that cloak."

"Well, here, let me help you with that," Anakin grinned, reaching up and tossing the hood of his cloak back onto his shoulders; he shook his head, his long, shaggy hair shining brightly in the bright sunlight, as he and Padmé emerged from the shadow of the Avenger's cargo hold. "Is that better?" he said, the sand crunching crisply under his boots as he stepped onto the hot desert floor.

"Much better," Owen laughed, patting Anakin's back soundly as he embraced him. "I can see all the gray now, no problem," he said, looking up at his tall, slender brother with a bright smile as he released him.

"You're getting a bit up there yourself, old man," Anakin chuckled, offering his hand to Padmé as she stepped down onto the sand beside him, her long, brown cloak blowing wildly in Tatooine's ever present wind.

They both watched, as Padmé flung her arms around Beru and hugged her tightly. "Hello, Beru," she sighed, as she squeezed her eyes shut tightly. "You look wonderful," she said, her face beaming brightly, as she rubbed her shoulders affectionately.

"It's so good to see you, Padmé," Beru said; she watched, laughing quietly to herself, as Shanda, finally unable to contain her excitement any longer, quite literally leapt into her aunt and uncle's arms, as the long overdue family reunion continued.

"Look at you, Shanda," Padmé said, shaking her head in amazement as she released her uncle Anakin from her embrace. "How is it that a beautiful girl like you isn't married, yet?" she asked, a sly smile on her face as she watched Shanda giggle, and then blush slightly in the bright Tatooine sun. "Is that boy you've been seeing blind, or what?"

"We're working on that," Beru interjected; Shanda looked back at her, her mouth dropping open in disbelief, as Padmé and Beru looked at each other and laughed, quite excitedly.

"Mother!" Shanda replied. "Paul and I are just dating, that's all," she said, placing her hands defensively on her hips.

"You've been 'just dating' for almost a year now," Padmé giggled, her eyes twinkling as brightly as Shanda's, as she tossed her own hood down onto her slender shoulders. "Anakin and I only dated for, how long, Beru?" she said, looking back at her stepsister with a grin.

"Five days," Beru said, folding her arms across her chest as she grinned back at her daughter. "If you count the time he spent guarding you at that resort in Naboo."

"See?" Padmé quipped, placing her own hands on the belt at her narrow waist. "You should already be on your second honeymoon, by now."

"Padmé," Beru said, a tone of surprise and confusion in her voice, as she reached over and took the edge of Padmé's cloak in her hands. "What are you doing, coming here dressed like this?" she asked, looking back up at her face as she suddenly caught sight of the shiny, slender weapon that hung at her waist.

The happy little reunion had occupied all of them, up until that moment. "Padmé and I were planning on telling you about this, before we got here," Anakin sighed, as he watched the three of them gaze, in stunned silence, at the both of them, as they finally noticed their Jedi uniforms beneath their long brown cloaks.

"What are you doing, Anakin?" Owen asked, shaking his head in confusion. "If Luke sees you dressed like this, he's going to..."

"Want to know what's going on," Padmé interjected, nodding her head slowly, as Owen turned his curious, confused face toward her. "And that's exactly what we want."

"You mean, you're going to tell him that you're both Jedi?" Shanda asked, as stunned and shocked as her mother and father at this sudden, and unexpected, revelation.

"We're going to tell him everything," Anakin said, nodding his head slowly, as he and Padmé exchanged another glance. "And Leia, and Lana, too," he said, watching as Owen, Beru, and Shanda all looked at each other quietly for a moment.

"Where is he?" Anakin asked, suddenly keenly aware of his son's absence. "Where's Luke?"

"He's not here, Anakin," Owen sighed, his eyes betraying the worry and concern in his heart.

"Where is he?" Padmé asked, turning her troubled eyes to her husband. She'd sensed that something wasn't right, not long before they'd begun their descent to the planet's surface; it seemed, now, that her fears had been more than just a mother's instincts.

"He went out this morning, early, looking for Artoo," Shanda said. "He and Threepio have been gone since first light, and we haven't heard back from him yet."

"Looking for Artoo?" Anakin asked, folding his arms tightly across his chest as he listened with rapt attention. "Why would they be looking for Artoo?"

"Maybe the two of you should come inside, so we can talk," Beru interjected, smiling reassuringly as all of them turned their attention toward her again.

"It's hot out here, and I'm sure we'll all feel a lot more comfortable talking about this indoors," she said, and, nudging them all along toward the house, she followed closely behind them, as an awkward silence filled the hot desert air around them.

* * *

><p>He looked almost human, as he ran toward the edge of the jagged bluff overlooking the orange desert below; his ragged, sandy brown clothes fluttered in the hot breeze, as his filthy, calloused fingers clung to the hot rocks, as he dropped down and hid behind them, peering out cautiously at the small vehicle that sped across the sand below.<p>

Yet, looks were the only thing that was vaguely human about him. A low, guttural growl filled his throat, as he eyed the tiny speeder for a long moment, the ragged, rag-wrapped fingers of his left hand - or claw, or whatever it was - squeezing the crude hilt of the long, ominous laser rifle tightly.

The primitive impulses that drove his sun-scorched brain egged him on, and, as quickly as he could, he flung the nasty weapon to his shoulder, leveling it at the tiny speeder as it zipped across the sand, a plume of orange-gold dust trailing behind it. He tracked it in his sights, as smoothly as he could, and reached for the trigger mechanism near his right hand, as he prepared to do what, to him, seemed only natural and logical.

An angry, ominous grunt filled the air around him, and he spun around, quite furiously, as the tall, rag-shrouded Tusken near him suddenly seized his weapon, snatching it from his hands. The smaller one instantly leapt to his feet, glaring angrily through the strange, round eyepieces that covered their hideous, orange eyes, as the larger one growled at him again, quite ferociously.

Brute force alone drove the pecking order, it seemed, and the smaller of the two backed down, although quite reluctantly, as his larger companion shoved him once, for good measure. Seeing that his dominance was now secure again, he handed the rifle back to the smaller Tusken and, shoving him again toward the path behind them, they both began to run down the rocky precipice, to the two large animals that waited below.

They were the one thing that they had in common with many of the other life forms on this barren desert world. The sand people had actually been among the first to domesticate the large, hairy bear-like creatures, and the bantha had proven itself to be a useful beast, having a much more docile and mild temperament than its tremendous, looped horns and huge red eyes imparted. They were as frightening in appearance as they were peaceful by nature, as large as an elephant, with a huge, hairy, dinosaur-like tail that drug through the hot sand as they meandered along, their deep, groaning call echoing across the barren landscape as they went.

The taller Tusken mounted the first of the hairy beasts, slipping his own rifle into the makeshift sling that hung near the huge leather saddle as he hefted himself quickly into it. He tugged on the reigns that led to the huge bit in the creature's mouth and, with a shriek much more fearsome than that of the beast he was riding on, he began to make his way down the rugged bluff, with his reluctant companion trailing close behind him, flogging the huge, hairy beast unmercifully, as they began to work their way around the rocky bluff, toward the direction the small speeder had been heading.

* * *

><p>"There he is!" Luke shouted, his voice laced with a combination of relief and excitement, as he grabbed hold of the windscreen in front of him and stood up in his seat. He watched, quite impatiently, as Threepio steered the speeder quickly through the narrow pass in the canyon walls and brought them to a swift stop, just in front of the small, waddling droid.<p>

"Hey, whoa," Luke shouted, leaping out of the speeder as it came to a halt and trotting over in front of Artoo. "Just hold on a minute, Artoo," he said, placing his hand on the little droid's dome; he recoiled, shaking his hand as he grimaced, a bit painfully. The little droid's metal dome was hot, hotter than he'd anticipated, from the hot sun that bore down on them.

"I said STOP!" Luke shouted, quite forcefully, still rubbing his hand gingerly, as the little droid continued to try to trudge on through the sand. "Just where do you think you're going?" he asked, as Artoo finally, and quite reluctantly, stopped moving, swinging his dome over and watching as his tall, metal counterpart shuffled over to join them.

Luke looked back at Threepio, as Artoo suddenly let fly with a long string of beeps, whistles, and clicks. "Don't take that tone with Master Luke, you ungrateful, malfunctioning little twit," Threepio said, his electronic voice laced with profound frustration.

"He's purchased us, fair and square, and we'll have no more talk of this Obi-Wan Kenobi gibberish," he chided, banging the little blue and white droid soundly on top of his dome. "And don't talk to me about your confounded mission, either," he continued, shaking his metal head firmly. "You're fortunate that he doesn't blast you into a million pieces, right here!"

Luke smiled, as he heard the loud, electronic raspberry Artoo directed toward his tall, golden friend. As mixed up and confusing as this whole situation was, he couldn't help but be amused by the fact that, even with Threepio's memory missing and Artoo acting like a droid possessed, the two of them still managed to aggravate each other incessantly.

"It's okay, Threepio," Luke said, reaching over and patting the droid's shoulder several times. "It's getting late, though," he said, looking up at the two suns above them; they were beginning to slip into the third quadrant of the sky, it's color becoming a mix of gold and blues. "We need to get back, hopefully before Dad gets here and really blows up."

"If you don't mind my saying so, sir," Threepio interjected, gesturing toward the little round droid in front of them again, "perhaps you should deactivate the little fugitive until we've gotten him back safe and sound to your uncle's workshop."

"No, it's okay," Luke replied, a somewhat amused smile on his face as Artoo let fly with a rather alarmed string of whistles and beeps. "He's going to behave himself, and he's not going try anything else," he said, directing a rather angry scowl back at the tubby little droid. "Isn't that right, Artoo?"

Luke stepped back, somewhat startled, as Artoo began to dance back and forth on his two primary supports, swinging his dome around as he whistled excitedly. "What's wrong with him now?" he asked, turning a confused, somewhat frustrated expression back to Threepio again.

"Oh, my," Threepio replied, glancing up at the ridge above them for a brief moment. "He says that there are several creatures approaching from the southeast," he said, turning and watching as Luke gazed up at the cliffs he'd just been looking at.

He only caught a glimpse of the ragged, tattered robes, as the creature ducked back down behind the ridge, sending a small avalanche of rocks and pebbles cascading down into the canyon where they stood. "Sandpeople, or worse," Luke groaned, as he turned and trotted quickly over to the small speeder, Threepio and Artoo's gazes studying him quietly as he rummaged about for just a moment, and then produced his own laser rifle and the pair of binoculars he'd been using earlier.

"Come on," he said, gesturing toward the small rise in the bluff just above them, a slightly excited grin on his face. It wasn't often, after all, that he found himself out in the arid desert like this and, though he knew he should think better of it, his sense of adventure was driving him on. "Let's go have a look."

"Master Luke," Threepio called, a decidedly nervous tone in his voice as he shuffled along behind him. "Are you sure this is a good idea, leaving the little twit alone like this?"

"Stay put, Artoo," Luke called, as he began to run, as quickly as he could, up the narrow, rocky slope. "Try to run again and I'll shoot you myself," he called, glancing back at the little droid with a smile. "Understand?"

Artoo whistled, somewhat dejectedly, as he watched Luke and Threepio make their way up to the rise above him; he sighed, as best he could, as he began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, he'd made the wrong decision.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry, Anakin," Owen sighed, his own frustration clearly evident in his voice, and on his face, as he sat next to him at the small kitchen table. "I should have helped Luke keep a better eye on him, and none of this would have happened."<p>

"Don't blame yourself, Owen, it's not your fault," Anakin replied, reaching over and squeezing his stepbrother's arm reassuringly. "If it's anyone's fault, it's ours," he sighed, as he looked back at Padmé again, as she sat close beside him.

She placed her arm around his shoulder, watching as he turned his troubled eyes back to the glass in his hand again, turning it slowly as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. "Padmé's right, we should have told all three of them, a long time ago,"

he said, staring far past the clear, blue glass in his hands as his thoughts centered on his children. "And then none of this would have happened."

"It's nobody's fault," Padmé said softly, leaning close to him as she squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "And that goes for you two, too," she said, turning her deep brown eyes toward Beru and Shanda, instantly sensing their troubled emotions as they traveled to her through the Force.

"What matters now is that we find him, and the droids, as soon as we can," she said, the tone of her calm, soothing voice filled with the resolve, and the determination, that it carried so long ago. "Do you know which way he went, where he was searching, when he left?" she asked, turning her attention back to Shanda again.

"He said the tracks led off toward Krider's Ridge, out toward the wasteland," Shanda replied, nodding her head firmly. "The ones near the workshop were still pretty visible, but they dropped off a few dozen yards out beyond the perimeter," she said. "Nothing lasts for long out here, not in this wind."

"I know where he's going," Anakin said, as they all turned their eyes back toward him again. "I just don't understand why. Did Luke say anything at all about anything else he might have found, after he talked to us last night?"

"Not much," Shanda replied, shaking her head disappointedly. "He was pretty upset, I could tell, about that piece of Leia's message he found," she said, her heart aching a bit as she watched Anakin and Padmé look at each other again; she could sense the worry, and the pain, that flowed through their hearts, and she couldn't imagine what they were going through at this moment. It was bad enough that Leia was missing, but now Luke was too, along with the only clue that might indicate where she was.

"Uncle Anakin," Shanda said softly, watching as he turned his worried countenance back toward her again, "Did you tell him anything about what he found in that message?" she asked, nodding her head slowly. "About Master Obi-Wan?"

"No, not yet," Anakin sighed, as he gazed out of the window near them, out over the familiar, barren landscape he'd grown so used to so many years ago. "I wish I had, now, though," he said, shaking his head slowly. "I wanted to tell him about all of this, before he found out about it on his own," he said, looking back at Padmé again. "Or from Obi-Wan."

"We still have time," Padmé replied softly, as her eyes searched his for a long moment. "We still might be able to find him before that happens."

"It's the sand people I'm worried about," Owen said, the worry and concern clearly evident in his voice. "Ben lives out beyond the Dune Sea, and if that's where he's headed, it's completely overrun with them now. Luke's sharp enough, but," he said, pausing for a moment as he looked at Anakin and Padmé intently. "Well," he sighed, his tone softening a bit, "I don't guess I need to remind you two what they're capable of."

"No, you don't," Padmé said softly, trying with great effort to push the memory of that terrible night from her mind; she reached up, rubbing her shoulder gently as she did so. The thought of her son facing such a threat unnerved her, more than she cared to let on.

"We need to find him," Anakin said, standing up rather quickly from the table, a look of keen resolve on his face. "It's going to be dark, soon," he said, turning his eyes toward the window again as the others stood up with him.

"Do you still have that speeder bike, the one you use to have?" he asked, as he took Padmé's hand in his and squeezed it tightly.

"It's out in the workshop," Owen replied, nodding his head firmly. "It hasn't run in a while, but I'm sure that won't be a problem for you."

"Let's go, then," Anakin nodded, as he gestured toward the kitchen door. Still holding Padmé's hand tightly in his, and with Beru and Shanda trailing close behind them, they all followed Owen out into the main living area, and up toward the hot afternoon sand that waited above.

* * *

><p>"I told you that wouldn't take long," Owen shouted, over the hum of the old speeder bike's engines, as Anakin torqued the throttle again. Anakin looked back at him with a smile, and then back down at the bike's engine again, as he snapped the cowl cover closed. He raised back up, settling himself down on the old, worn saddle, watching Padmé quietly as the old bike shuddered beneath him.<p>

"We won't be long, I promise," Padmé said, as she turned her attention back to Beru and Shanda again.

"Seems to me, I remember you telling me that the last time you and Anakin struck out across the desert on this thing," Beru said, managing a worried smile. "Did you leave us the codekeys to the ship, just in case we need to come get you again?" she asked, as she hugged Padmé tightly.

"They're under the cushion of the pilot's seat," Padmé said, her eyes tearing up a bit as she squeezed Beru's neck tightly, as the memory of everything she'd done for her that night surfaced again; she swallowed hard, forcing back the lump that tried to rise in her throat, as she rubbed her shoulders affectionately and smiled back at her, as confidently as she could.

"You won't have to this time, though," Padmé said, shaking her head firmly. "I promise."

Padmé looked back at Shanda again, and they both stood there quietly, as their eyes locked for a long moment; Padmé wasn't sure what it was, but something was troubling her, very much so. "Take care of things until we get back, okay, Shanda?" she asked quietly, as she reached over and took her niece's hand in hers, squeezing it tightly.

"I will, Aunt Padmé," Shanda replied softly, as she sensed the worry and concern in Padmé's voice, and in her familiar tremor, as it traveled back to her through the Force. "Everything will be just fine, I promise."

Padmé held her gaze for another moment and then, somewhat reluctantly, she turned around and climbed quickly up onto the back of the speeder, wrapping her arms tightly around Anakin's waist.

"Be careful, Anakin," Owen said, as the two of them exchanged a long glance. "And hurry home."

"We will," Anakin replied, nodding his head slowly as he smiled reassuringly at him. "All of this will be over soon, and we'll all spend a week at the lake, on Naboo," he shouted, revving the speeder's engine again.

"I'm going to hold you to that," Owen shouted; he stood there, fighting back the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, as he watched Anakin punch the throttle's shifter and, with a quick twist of his wrist, the two of them sped off across the desert, their long, dark cloaks flapping wildly behind them as the speeder whipped across the coarse, golden sand.

"Funny how history repeats itself," Beru sighed, as she walked over and took Owen's hand tightly in her own. "Feels a lot like it did that night they went out looking for Shmi," she said, gazing into Owen's deeply worried eyes as he turned his weathered, bearded face back toward her and Shanda again.

Shanda wrapped her arms around her stomach, hugging herself tightly, as the worried look on Padmé's face burned itself into her brain, and her soul. She looked back at her father again, as she heard him sigh, very deeply, as he gazed out at the desert, as the afternoon suns continued to slip closer and closer to the horizon.

"Yes, it does," he sighed, as he watched the tiny speeder disappear into a plume of angry dust. "And that's what I'm afraid of."

* * *

><p>The climb to the top of the narrow, rocky ridge hadn't been an overly easy one. Luke sat down, as quietly as he could, his breath still coming fast and heavy, as he peered carefully over the ridge, and down toward the sand below.<p>

"Hurry up," he called, as quietly as he could, motioning for Threepio to join him, as the tall, golden droid shuffled up toward him, somewhat awkwardly. He turned back to the ridge again and, picking up the electrobinoculars he'd brought with him, he lifted them to his eyes and looked down toward the sand, spinning the small control dial quickly, as the bantha's low, mournful cry echoed off the canyon around them.

"Can you see anything, Master Luke?" Threepio asked, as quietly as he could, as he shuffled up and stood just behind his young companion.

"Well," Luke said, sweeping the binoculars slowly over the terrain below, "There are two bantha's down there," he said, shaking his head slowly. "But I don't see any..."

"Wait a minute," he said, pausing for an instant as he suddenly saw the gangly, ragged creature that slunk out from the rocks toward the two hairy beasts. "They're sand people, all right," he said, his voice laced with a tone of disgust, as he watched the ghastly creature mill about erratically on the hot sand below. "I can see one of them now."

"Sand people," Threepio sighed, making little effort to hide the trepidation in his voice. "In that case, Master Luke," he whispered, pointing back down the hill below, toward their speeder, "perhaps we should go back down and check on Artoo. There's no telling what he might..."

"Just relax, Threepio," Luke sighed, as he tightened the field of view on his binoculars, watching the gangly Tusken carefully. "They're all the way down there. There's no way they could get up here without..."

Luke's field of vision suddenly filled with a fast moving, dark blur; he dropped the glasses from his eyes, looking up in stunned, horrified surprise, as a huge, angry Tusken suddenly leapt up over the ridge in front of him, letting out a huge, angry cry as it surged toward him.

Luke stumbled back, falling back onto the hard, unforgiving stone; he closed his eyes and grimaced, painfully, as his head struck the rocks. He opened his eyes, his head swimming, as he suddenly heard Threepio cry out in terror as the sound of banging metal filled his ears, disappearing as quickly as it had started, over the side of the small bluff, down toward the speeder that waited below.

His eyes scanned the rocky terrain around him; there was no sign of Threepio and, before he got a chance to look for him again, he looked up, taken back again, as the angry Tusken suddenly leapt in front of him, the sharp, glistening blade of his gaderffii stick flashing brightly in the afternoon sun as he raised it high over his head, and then brought it down directly at Luke's with incredible Force.

Luke wasn't quite sure how he managed to avoid the crushing, angry blow; he rolled quickly to his side, almost before he realized what he was doing, watching as the razor-sharp blade crashed against the hard stone, sending a hail of sparks across it. He looked back up, as the creature raised it blade and brought it down again, and again, as Luke managed each time to avoid it, by only the width of the blade itself.

He glanced over to his right, as he suddenly heard a noise behind him; the last thing he remembered, as the blunt, hard stock of the smaller Tusken's weapon struck him square in the temple, was the taller one standing over him, his gaderffii stick raised high over his head, crying out triumphantly, as everything suddenly went black.

* * *

><p>Artoo watched, helplessly, as the two mysterious, hideous creatures dropped Luke's unconscious body onto the hard stone, a short distance from his speeder. He stood there, as still as he could, looking for any sign of life, or movement, from the young boy he'd known all of his life.<p>

He whistled, as softly as he could, trying desperately to raise some type of response from him, but he felt his little electronic heart begin to sink as Luke remained motionless, even as the two Tusken Raiders began to rummage through Luke's speeder.

Emotions were something that droids weren't supposed to have, but as Artoo watched the two monstrous creatures begin to fling Luke's belongs this way, then that, as they rummaged through them for anything they found of value to them, he began to feel a mixture of many things; fear, for his young master's life, and anger, both at himself, for allowing this to happen, and at the Tuskens who were now placing Luke's life in danger.

The urge to help his young master, the boy he'd spent most of his life protecting, had almost overwhelmed him; he dropped back onto his central supports and charged his main probe, a device that could deliver a nasty shock, as his center wheel dropped to the ground with a thump. He swung his dome toward the two Tuskens, eyeing them with disdain as he prepared to roll out into the open and do whatever little he could to help Luke.

Artoo stopped, just as he'd only rolled forward a half meter or so; he reversed his motors, rolling back into the shelter of the rocks, as the air was suddenly filled with a high pitched, frightening shriek.

The two Tuskens turned around suddenly, watching in stunned alarm as a strange, cloaked figure walked toward them across the sun-drenched sand, waving its arms menacingly as the strange, haunting howl filled the desert air once again. They hesitated, glancing back at the unconscious boy for a brief moment; their fear got the better of them, however, as they watched the dark figure draw closer and, grabbing what spoils they could, they turned and bolted toward the safety of the rocks behind them, disappearing as quickly as they'd appeared into the rust-colored hills.

Artoo stood silently from his niche in the rocks, watching as the cloaked figure walked up and knelt quickly at Luke's side. He debated the wisdom, in his electronic mind, of lashing out at this creature as well, with whatever resources he had, in an attempt to rescue the boy he'd known for so many years, but, just as he started to leave the safety of the rocks, his small electronic probe crackling with stored static electricity, he stopped again.

It was the normal, weathered human hand that protruded from the dark brown cloak, reaching out and taking Luke's wrist gently in its grip, that stayed his motors and kept him at bay. He whistled, quite low and forlornly, his sharp little mind confused, for the first time in a long time, as he watched the mysterious entity freeze, and then turn toward him and toss the hood of his ragged, dark brown cloak onto his shoulders.

"Hello there," the gray-haired gentleman said, a kind smile on his weathered, bearded face. "Come here, my little friend," he said, patting the ground next to him reassuringly. "Don't be afraid."

Artoo held his ground, still unsure of whether or not he should leave the safety of the rocks; he whistled, his long string of beeps and clicks echoing off the rocky caverns around them, and, much to his surprise, he listened intently as the somewhat scruffy looking old man glanced back at Luke again, as he lay crumpled in a heap on the desert floor.

"Him?" the man said, reaching over and placing his hand gently on Luke's forehead. "Oh, don't worry," he said, glancing back at Artoo with a grin again. "He'll be all right."

The old gentleman turned his tanned, weather-worn face back to Luke again, as he suddenly heard him groan as he began to come to. "What happened?" Luke groaned, grimacing in pain as he reached up and rubbed his head gingerly, blinking his eyes slowly as he gazed about, quite disoriented.

"Rest easy, son," the old man said, nodding his head slowly as he placed his hand gently on Luke's shoulder. "You've had a busy day. You're fortunate to be all in once piece," he said, surveying the young boy quickly with his bright, striking eyes.

Luke blinked his eyes, several more times, as he tried to regain his wits, and his bearings. He looked up at the kindly old face that looked down at him, as his eyes finally focused on him. "Ben?" he said, a tone of relief in his young voice as he recognized the face that looked down at him. "Ben Kenobi? Boy, am I glad to see you," he said, leaning up, somewhat gingerly, as he rested his weight on his elbows.

"The Jundland Wastes are not to be traveled lightly," Ben replied, a slight air of rebuke in his voice, as he helped Luke sit up slowly beside him. "Tell me, young Luke," he said, watching as the lad reached up and rubbed the back of his head gingerly, "what brings you out this far?"

"Well, to be honest, it's my goofy little droid, here," he said, glancing back, somewhat disgustedly, at Artoo as he waddled up beside him. "I've had him all my life, but I've never seen him act like this before," Luke continued, studying his little blue and white friend intently as he spoke.

"It's kind of a long story, but he seems to be searching for someone called 'Obi-Wan Kenobi," Luke said, looking up at Ben again; he would've readily admitted that the sudden look of shock that surged across the old man's face intrigued him, greatly. "I thought he might be a relative of yours. Do you know who he's talking about?" he asked, watching as Ben sat back on his heels, very slowly, and stared off across the desert quietly for a long moment.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," Ben said, very quietly; he seemed to be recalling a memory, a name, from long ago, as his eyes focused somewhere off beyond the distant horizon. "Obi-Wan," he said again, as he took a long breath and sighed, quite deeply. "Now that's a name I've not heard in a long time," he said, shaking his head slowly. "A long time, indeed."

"I think my father and uncle may have known him, a long time ago," Luke said, studying the old man's face carefully as he looked back down at him again. "He may be dead, for all I know."

"Oh, he's not dead," Ben replied, shaking his head firmly. "Well, not yet, anyway," he said, shrugging his shoulders, as he glanced up thoughtfully toward the orange-gold sky.

"Oh, then you know him?" Luke asked, his interest, and his hopes about finding out more about what was happening with his sister, peeking as Ben turned his face back to him again.

"Well, of course I know him," Ben replied, chuckling under his breath, as he tapped his own chest lightly several times. "He's _me_."

Luke glanced over at Artoo, as he heard his little droid whistle in surprise at Ben's little revelation. "I haven't gone by the name of Obi-Wan since, oh, not long after you were born," Ben said, shaking his head again, very slowly as Luke listened intently.

"Well, then you _are_ the one he's looking for," Luke grunted, as he sat up a bit farther, reaching down and dusting off the leg of his now pants.

"I can't really imagine why he'd be looking for me," Ben said, shaking his head slowly, a profoundly confused, yet curious, look on his face.

They both looked up toward the hills that surrounded them, as they suddenly heard the chilling howl that echoed through the valley where they sat. "I think we'd better continue this conversation indoors," Ben said, standing up quickly and extending his rough, calloused hand to Luke and helping him to his feet. "The sand people are easily frightened, but they'll soon be back, and in greater numbers," he said, as he started to help Luke over toward his speeder.

Luke turned around, glancing back at Artoo again, as his shrill, urgent whistles suddenly filled the air around them. "Threepio," he sighed, as he suddenly remembered his other droid and, with Ben trotting quickly along beside him, they both ran quickly over to the last spot that Luke had seen him, before the angry Tuskens had attacked him.

* * *

><p>Artoo stopped, just at the edge of the sandy, barren pit; he whistled and chattered, quite wildly, as he tried to raise a response from his battered, beaten counterpart.<p>

He must have fallen at least twenty meters, judging from the amount of damage he'd suffered. "Man, am I going to get it," Luke sighed, as he picked up Threepio's arm, which lay about three meters from his silent, scraped, and badly dented droid. "Dad's going to be furious when he sees this," he said, as he walked over and knelt beside Threepio, just as Ben crouched on the other side of him.

"Frankly, I'm amazed that he survived in this good a shape," Ben said, looking back up at the rocky precipice that the unfortunate droid had tumbled over. He watched, as Luke reached behind the droid's neck, flipping a small mechanical switch several times, as Threepio's eyes blinked on and off in concert with it.

"Six times should do it," Luke said, flipping the switch a final couple of times; he stopped, looking back at Ben with a grin, as Threepio's eyes suddenly lit up brightly, his actuators beginning to whine, somewhat roughly, as he raised his head.

"Where am I?" Threepio asked, glancing around, obviously confused. "I must have taken a bad step," he said, glancing down at his feet, as he suddenly realized he was laying prostrate in the sand.

"That's one way to put it," Luke sighed, as he raised up on one knee, slipping his arm behind Threepio's back. "Can you stand?" he asked, as Ben tucked his hand behind the droid's remaining arm. "We've got to get out of here before those sand people return."

"I don't think I can make it," Threepio whined, as melodramatically as ever. "You go on, Master Luke," he sighed, looking back at his master forlornly. "There's no sense in you risking yourself on my account," he said, gazing off into the sky above him. "I'm done for."

"No, you're not," Luke half laughed, half sighed, as he grabbed hold of his old droid tightly. "What kind of talk is that?"

"Hurry," Ben grunted, as the two of them began to lift the tall, somewhat heavy, droid to his feet. "They're on the move," he said, as he suddenly heard the sound of another haunting cry beyond the hills behind them.

* * *

><p>She was almost at the door of the workshop, when the familiar sound of thrusters filled her ears. She had been going to retrieve some vegetables from the dry storage hopper in the back of the small, dusty building, but she dropped the basket she'd brought with her onto the sand, gazing up with surprise, as she suddenly saw the sleek, silver shuttlecraft fly over her head, and then turn quickly just in front of the house, kicking up a huge plume of sand and dust as it began to lower itself down onto the ground a short distance from the <em>Avenger.<em>

"What in the world is going on around here?" Shanda asked herself, her dusky red hair flying around her shoulders as she began to trot slowly toward the house, watching the ship with her sharp blue eyes as it turned slowly on its thrusters, the setting suns glinting brightly off of its smoothly polished, silver hull as it settled toward the sand.

Her pace quickened, however, as she suddenly recognized the familiar black and silver symbol, just to the right of the ship's main access hatch, as it dropped onto the ground with a solid thump. She glanced over at the _Avenger;_ the insignia matched, perfectly, the same Skywalker family crest that she'd known, ever since she'd become a part of their family, so long ago.

"Dad?" Shanda shouted, her trot breaking into a full fledged run, as she bolted toward the house, and the shuttle. "Dad!" she shouted again, as loudly as she could, as she stopped at the top of the stairs that led down into the house, her heart racing in her chest, as she watched him and her mother suddenly run to the bottom of the stairs.

"What is it?" Owen asked, as he saw Shanda look back out toward the sand again.

"You'd better get up here!" she shouted again, glancing back down at him again for just an instant.

Owen turned and looked at Beru, confused and disoriented, as Shanda took off again. "What the hell is happening around here today?" he asked, as, with Beru close behind him, they ran quickly up the stairs toward whatever waited above.

* * *

><p>"Lana!" Shanda called as she ran, a look of stunned disbelief on her face, as she saw the young girl who ran quickly down the shuttle's access ramp toward her, her long brown hair bouncing around her shoulders as she jumped down onto the coarse, dry sand.<p>

"Shanda!" Lana called, as the two of them ran toward each other at almost full speed; Lana flung her arms tightly around her cousin's neck, squeezing her as tight as she could, as she leapt into Shanda's strong arms.

"Lana, what in the world are you doing here?" Shanda asked, reaching up and cupping her young cousin's face in her hands as she lowered her down onto the sand. "I'm so happy to see you, but you're supposed to be at home, with your Aunt Sola," she said, as Lana closed her eyes and shook her head firmly.

Shanda looked up, surprised, as she suddenly heard a voice from inside the shuttle. "Well, she _is_ with her Aunt Sola," Sola said, as she walked slowly down the ramp, with Kayko following close behind her. "As for her being at home," she said, turning and watching Kayko as she stepped down, somewhat apprehensively, onto the sand. "Well, she just wouldn't have any part of that."

"My, what an interesting surface," Kayko said, studying the golden sand closely as she walked along behind Sola to where Lana and Shanda stood, shuffling her feet slowly through it. "A silica-based substance, quite firm, but with highly dynamic surface qualities."

"It's called sand, Kayko," Lana said, turning and looking at her droid with a grin.

"I was just about to say that, my lady," Kayko said, turning her blue electronic eyes up to her young mistress, as she came and stood beside her.

"Uncle Owen, Aunt Beru!" Lana cried, running across the sand to meet them as she suddenly heard Owen call her name. Shanda and Sola watched as, with a great deal of excitement and surprise, Owen and Beru greeted their youngest niece.

"What are you doing here, Sola?" Shanda asked, turning her attention from Lana's excited conversation toward Padmé's sister again. "I thought she was supposed to be staying at home with you," she said, making an effort to keep her voice down as she spoke.

"Well, it seems our little bookworm here made a few unexpected 'discoveries' last night, while she was looking for some medicine for my finger," Sola sighed, lifting her bandaged finger and showing it to Shanda.

"Discoveries?" Shanda asked, looking up at Sola's face again. "What kind of discoveries?"

"Good ones," Lana said, dragging Beru by the hand, as the three of them came to join them and Kayko again. Shanda looked down and watched, as Lana reached down into the small bag she carried on her shoulder, and produced the small picture she'd brought with her.

Shanda stared at it, in stunned disbelief, for a long moment; she handed it to Beru, not saying a word, and then turned her eyes back toward Lana again, as Beru and Owen looked at the picture, and then at each other, each of their faces as shocked as Shanda's had been.

"Yeah, that's pretty much the same reaction I had when she gave it to me last night, too," Sola chuckled, as the three of them turned and looked back at her in stunned silence. "It gets better, though, believe me," Sola said, as she and Lana both exchanged a knowing smile, as Lana went back into her bag again.

Shanda's mouth dropped open, and she held out her trembling hand, as Lana placed Anakin's old light saber into it. "I think there are some things I need to talk about with Mother and Daddy," Lana said softly, looking up at her shocked family with a sheepish smile.

"I'd... I'd say so," Shanda stammered, as she turned her uncle's old Jedi weapon over slowly in her hands. "You really shouldn't have this, though, Lana," she said, her tone growing a bit more concerned as she and Beru exchanged a worried, troubled glance. "Do you know what this is?"

"It's a light saber," Lana replied, nodding her head firmly. "All Jedi used to carry them," she continued, pointing to the small switch on the side of its hilt.

"Don't worry, Kayko and I looked it up, and she told me exactly what not to do with it," she said, looking back at her droid with a grin as she tucked a lock of her long, brown hair behind her ear, as the ever present wind whipped at it again. "So where are Mother and Daddy?" she asked, glancing around the homestead again. "They're here, aren't they?"

"Not at the moment, sweetheart," Owen said, shaking his head slowly as Lana's smile faded a bit. "They went out to look for your brother a little while ago."

"Looking for Luke?" Lana asked, her expression growing deeply troubled. "Why? Is he lost? Where is he?"

"Now don't get all flustered," Beru said, instantly recognizing the look of worry on Lana's young face. "Artoo got lost, and Luke went to look for him, that's all."

"But they'll be back before too long," Beru said, walking up and placing her arm tightly around Lana's shoulders. "One thing's for sure, though," she said, looking back up at Sola as she stood beside Kayko and Shanda. "I think they're going to be as surprised to see you here as we are."

"Come on, let's go inside," Owen said, as he looked back at Shanda again, watching her as she stared at the weapon that her cousin has just given her. "It looks like we have a lot to talk about," he said, as he watched Lana, Beru, and Sola begin to walk toward the house, as he and Kayko followed close behind.

"You can say that again," Shanda sighed, very softly, as she looked at the weapon in her hand. Anakin and Padmé weren't the only ones, it seemed, who had decided it was time for their children to know the truth. The Force, in all of its wisdom, seemed to be in complete agreement with them.

She held the weapon tightly in her hand, as she gazed out across the barren sand, past the two ships that stood in the soft, golden light of the late afternoon sun. Tomorrow, no matter what happened, would most likely be a much different day for all of them - in more ways than one.

* * *

><p><em>Our story continues shortly!...<em>


	5. Chapter 5: Blood on the Sand, Part 1

_**Tatooine - The Jundland Wastes**_

"You're lucky that you only lost one arm in that fall, Threepio," Luke grunted, as he carefully twisted another pair of wires together at the battered, golden droid's shoulder. "I'm amazed you're still working at all," he sighed, glancing back up at his droid's yellow eyes. "You've got to learn to be more careful."

"Don't be too hard on him, my boy," Ben replied, patting Luke's shoulder as he placed the cup he'd brought him on the small table beside him. "I believe he had a little help. The sand people aren't any more polite to droids than they are to any other unfortunate creature that happens to cross their path," he sighed, as he walked over and sat down slowly in the chair adjacent to the sandy-haired young lad.

"Besides," Ben sighed, grinning slyly as he leaned back in his chair, "he seems, for the most part, to be none the worse for wear, much like yourself."

"Thanks to you," Luke replied, with no small hint of gratitude; he watched the old man, as he chuckled quietly for a moment, and then gazed thoughtfully out of the window near him. It was getting late in the afternoon, and Tatooine's sky was its usual brilliant array of colors, a mix of reds, golds, and blues, as the two suns danced low toward the horizon, just as that they had for a millennia before.

He knew very little about the man, beyond what his father and uncle had told him. He had always thought him a bit strange, something of a hermit, even though he had come to visit them on many occasions, when his family would come to the old homestead. He had asked his father about him, many times, always receiving the same answer. _Ben's an old friend_, Anakin would say, a curious grin on his face whenever Luke or Leia would inquire about him, but that's as far as their curiosity would get them. The old man would stay, sometimes for a day or two, visiting pleasantly with his family, and, as quickly as he had arrived, he would disappear again into the desert. He was a ghost of sorts, a puzzle, a conundrum of grand proportion; yet Luke knew, by some intuition that he couldn't explain, that there was far more to this gray-haired, weathered old man than met the eye.

"So how have you managed to live out here all this time, Ben?" Luke asked, eyeing the old man thoughtfully as he stopped working for just a moment. "You're right in the middle of the Jundland Wastes out here," he said, glancing out of the small window of the modest stone dwelling. "Why do you live out here, all alone, like this?"

"Let's just say that it's served my purposes, over the years," Ben replied, with a nod of his bearded head. "Besides," he sighed, pausing as he took a long sip from the cup he'd fetched for himself, "Someone with a history as, shall we say, _colorful _as mine tends to do a bit better on his own, rather than mixed in with polite company."

"Colorful history, huh?" Luke asked, curiously, as he watched Ben grin back at him, silently.

"To put it mildly," Ben chuckled; he watched silently, admiring the speed with which Luke reconnected the remaining wires and cables at Threepio's shoulder. "So tell me, Luke," he said, purposefully shifting the focus of their conversation away from his past for a moment, "I don't hear much of the local goings on, living out here like this. Is there any news of great interest, maybe something you've heard from your uncle, that you can share with an old man?"

"Well, nothing too remarkable," Luke sighed, tucking the small bundle of cables he'd just fastened together under Threepio's dusty golden shoulder plate. "Seems like the war's still going on, just like it always does," he sighed, shaking his head slowly as he spoke.

"I saw Wedge yesterday, in Anchorhead, when Uncle Owen and I went in to pick up some parts. He's just been inducted into the Academy," Luke said, glancing back at Ben again as he patted Threepio's shoulder soundly. "He's shipping out next week."

"Wedge Antilles?" Ben asked, a look of genuine, surprised interest on his weathered face. "I knew his father, and mother, a long time ago," he sighed, a deeply thoughtful, yet somewhat sad expression spreading over his countenance. "He's a fine boy," he said, nodding his head slowly. "He'll make a fine pilot, and a good warrior, just like his father."

Luke turned his attention back to Threepio, as he suddenly heard his droid's voice again. "Sir," Threepio said, his yellow eyes blinking brightly as Luke turned toward him, "If you'll not be needing me, I'm going to close down for a little while."

"Sure, go ahead," Luke said, nodding his head approvingly; he watched for a moment, as Threepio's eyes flashed briefly, and then fell dark. "You knew Wedge's father?" he asked, the look of curiosity returning to his face as he looked back at Ben again.

"Yes," Ben replied, leaning back in his chair and stroking his gray beard thoughtfully. "I knew Jagged Antilles a long time ago, back when he was just a fledgling pilot, just after the end of the Clone Wars, if I'm not mistaken," he said, turning his gaze to Luke once more. "Your father and I met him a short time after we left the service, not long after you were born, when he ran a fuel depot a few parsecs away from Coruscant."

"You fought in the Clone Wars?" Luke asked, turning the logic probe he held in his hand over thoughtfully, as he leaned closer to the chair where Ben sat, his curiosity peaked at this startling revelation.

"Yes," Ben chuckled, smiling as he saw the look of amazement on Luke's face. "I was a pilot of sorts, myself once, long ago," he said, leaning back in his chair and stroking his beard again, very thoughtfully. He hesitated, only for a moment, as he carefully considered what he was about to say.

Ben looked over at Luke again, as he felt the quiet urging of the Force inside him; he had known that the time would come, and, oddly enough, he knew that that time was now. Yet he would have admitted, readily, that he had always felt that it would fall to Anakin, or Padmé, to reveal the truth to their son; but there was no denying what the Force was telling him to do.

He took a deep breath, as he regarded the young lad's face for a long moment. "I was once a Jedi Knight," he said, carefully studying the look of shock that spread quickly over Luke's face. "The same as your father."

"Jedi Knight?" Luke laughed, shaking his head, a look of profound amusement and confusion on his face. "My father wasn't a Jedi Knight," he chuckled, reaching over and picking up the logic probe and small assortment of tools he'd been using on Threepio, tucking them back into their small storage pouch. "Dad was a pilot, for a while, I think, a long time ago, but he never fought in the war."

"I don't really know for sure, they don't talk about it much," Luke continued, as he tucked the small pouch of tools back into one of the compartments on his belt. "He left the service before the war ended, when they found out Mom was expecting. He and my grandfather opened the shop, on Naboo, and he's been there ever since."

"That's all true," Ben replied, nodding his head slowly; he eyed the boy carefully for a long moment, as he stretched out his feelings toward him. "But there was a time," he continued, "when you father was much, much more than that, and you know it," he said, his sharp, knowing eyes searching Luke's for a long moment. "Don't you?"

Luke couldn't deny it; he had thought it many times, when he looked at his father, and yes, his mother, too. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was there, buried deep inside them both, something that had always stirred something within him, something profoundly powerful. What amazed him, even more, was that he sensed that same thing now, that same sense of awe and wonder, as he looked into the clear, striking eyes of the old man who sat before him, regarding him quietly.

He had come here looking for answers; indeed, he needed them, as badly as he had ever needed anything in his life. Leia's life could be in danger, and he wanted desperately to find her. Just as he knew that, somewhere in that massive maze of electronic circuits that made up his little droid's brain, lay a message that could reveal more about her whereabouts, he knew that Ben had other answers, answers to puzzles that had nagged him for a long, long time... and he wanted those answers.

"You said that you, and my father, were Jedi," Luke said quietly; he narrowed his eyes, regarding the old man with keen attention, allowing himself to venture, if only briefly, that what Ben was saying might be true. "Tell me about them."

"For a thousand years, the Jedi were the guardians of peace and justice in the old Republic," Ben said, leaning back in his chair again as he spoke. "I first met your father, many years ago, here on Tatooine, when he was just a boy," he said, looking back at Luke with a smile again.

"He was an amazing young lad," Ben sighed, nodding his head as he reflected on those memories from long ago. "My own master, Qui-Gon Jinn, recognized it the moment he first met him. He was already a great pilot, even as a boy, and I was amazed at how strongly the Force was with him."

Ben's grin widened, as he saw the look of profound mixture of confusion and wonder on Luke's face. "The Force?" Luke asked, shaking his head slowly as he spoke.

"Well, the Force is what gives a Jedi his power," Ben said, leaning closer to Luke as he spoke. "It's an energy field that's created by all living things," he said, gesturing toward the room around them. "It surrounds us, and penetrates us," he said, lacing his fingers together tightly. "It binds the galaxy together."

"So what happened to them?" Luke asked, leaning closer to Ben, his curiosity clearly peeked. He found all of this to be, at best, unbelievable; but, for some reason that he didn't clearly understand, he wanted to hear more. "Where did they all go?"

Ben sat there for a moment; of all the questions he had been prepared to hear in the course of this conversation, all the ones that he had imagined might surface when this moment arrived, he had been ill-prepared for this one, and he didn't really know why. It was, after all, one of the simplest questions the boy could have asked, yet he suddenly realized that it was the most difficult to answer, especially at this poignant, critical moment. Luke watched, eying Ben curiously, as he took a long breath and, swallowing hard, turned his eyes back toward him again.

"A young Jedi by the name of Darth Vader," Ben said, his tone soft and sullen as he spoke, "helped the Empire hunt down and destroy the Jedi Knights."

"With the Emperor's help, he betrayed and murdered almost all of us," he continued, watching as Luke sat back slowly, listening intently. "Now the Jedi are all but extinct, and only a very few of us remain, forced into hiding for all these years," he said, studying Luke carefully. "Including myself, and your father."

It was all too much to believe, Luke thought to himself. "This is crazy," he laughed, shaking his head as he stood up and walked over toward the window. "Mom and Dad would've told us about something as big as this," he said, turning back toward the weathered old man and waving his hand in confusion. "I came out here trying to track you down because of some cryptic message my droid's carrying," Luke said, a tone of disgust swelling in his voice. "I still don't know what that message is about, and now you're telling me that..."

"I seem to have found it," Ben interjected, raising his hand, as Artoo's holographic projector suddenly glittered to life; he glanced back at Luke, and the two of them exchanged a confused, befuddled glance, as Leia's flickering, blue-green image appeared just over the small, round wooden table just in front of them.

Luke walked over to his chair, never taking his eyes off the image of his twin sister; he sat down slowly, listening intently, as her troubled voice began to fill the room around them.

"_General Kenobi_," Leia said, the hood of her bright white gown standing out in stark contrast to her dark brown hair as she bowed, quite reverently. "_Years ago, you served my mentor and advisor, Senator Bail Organa, in the Clone Wars. Now he begs you to help him in his struggle against the Empire_."

"_I regret that I am unable to present his request to you in person_," Leia continued, shaking her head slowly, a deeply apologetic look on her face. "_But my ship has fallen under attack, and I'm afraid that my mission to bring you to Alderaan has failed._"

"_I have placed information vital to the survival of the Rebellion into the memory circuits of this Artoo unit_," she said, her expression growing quite serious as she spoke. "_Senator Organa will know how to retrieve it."_

"You _must see this droid delivered to him safely on Alderaan,_" Leia pleaded, as her image flickered, and then stabilized. "_This is our most desperate hour. Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi_," she said, shaking her head slowly as she held her hands out toward him, her bright white gown shimmering as it flowed around her. "_You're my only hope."_

Luke sat there, stunned and shaken, as he watched his sister suddenly look off to her right, and then kneel quickly in front of the projector. He swallowed hard, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, as her image flickered, and then faded, as Artoo's projector finally went offline.

They sat there for what seemed like an eternity, silent and still, Leia's heartfelt plea ringing in their minds and their ears. Luke reached out toward the small table in front of him and, with a trembling hand, picked up his cup and took several long, deep gulps of the cool, refreshing liquid in it. He closed his eyes as he did, trying with all of his might, to quell the sense of fear that rose inside him as he considered what fate might have befallen his beloved sister.

Luke jerked his head around, drawn from his thoughts and concerns for Leia, as he suddenly heard Ben's voice again. "You must learn the ways of the Force, Luke," Ben said, as he nodded his head slowly. "If you're to come with us to Alderaan."

"Alderaan?" Luke laughed, incredulously, taken back by the clarity and firmness of Ben's statement. "I'm not _going_ to Alderaan," he said, placing his now empty cup on the table, standing up and shaking his head firmly. "I'm taking these droids back to my uncle's before my Mom and Dad get here, I'm in for it as it is," he said, reaching down and picking up the rag he'd placed on the table earlier.

"We need your help, Luke," Ben said, watching as Luke stood there, a pained, troubled look on his young face as he wiped his hands slowly. "Leia needs your help," he said, gesturing toward the tubby little droid that stood a short distance from them, listening quietly. "I'm getting too old for this sort of thing."

"You keep saying 'we', like there's somebody else here," Luke shot back, glancing around the empty room, his voice loud and somewhat angry; he couldn't help but feel agitated at the moment. "There's nobody else here, Ben, except you and me," he said, throwing the towel down angrily on the table.

"I shouldn't have come here," Luke sighed, frustrated, as he shook his head firmly, and then turned and walked over toward Threepio, who still sat silent on the small bench beside the chair he'd been sitting in.

Ben turned his attention toward the door of his small, modest house, as he suddenly sensed a strong, familiar presence. He stood there silently, as he watched the door begin to open, quite slowly, as Luke directed his attention toward his battered, golden friend.

"Sometimes things aren't always as they seem, Luke," Ben said quietly, turning his eyes back to the boy again; Luke still had his back to him, as he reached around behind Threepio and began to quickly flip the small actuator switch just below his neck.

"Tell me about it," Luke snorted, never looking back, as he watched Threepio's eyes flash on and off in perfect time with the small switch. "This whole situation is getting more complicated all the time," he said, just as Threepio sat up, his motors whirring somewhat jerkily, as his eyes scanned the room around him.

"I'm afraid it's a lot more complicated than you know, Luke," a calm, quiet voice called, from somewhere behind him.

Luke froze, as that familiar, soothing voice struck his ears; he recognized it instantly, yet his mind refused to believe what he was hearing. Threepio watched quietly, as Luke turned around, very slowly, looking back toward the front of the house, where the voice had come from.

"Mom?" Luke said, scarcely believing his own eyes, as he saw her standing there, smiling back at him, at his father's side, just inside the front door of the modest dwelling.

Padmé walked quickly across the room, as her strong mother's instinct took control. "Oh, Luke," she sighed, squeezing her eyes shut as she hugged him tightly, and then kissed him gently on the cheek.

"You don't know how happy we are to see you," she said, smiling up at him as he gazed down at her, a stunned, puzzled look on his face. "Are you all right?"

Luke didn't answer; he looked up, watching as his father tossed the hood of his dark brown cloak onto his shoulders and walked up to his side. "Hey, Luke," he said, smiling as reassuringly as he could at his son. He and Padmé exchanged a quick, concerned glance, as Luke continued to stand there in shocked silence.

"Oh, I think he'll be fine," Ben interjected, folding his hands in front of him as he walked up to join them. "I'm afraid all of this may have just caught him a bit off guard," he said, as he, Anakin and Padmé looked at each other.

Padmé turned her attention back to Luke again, as she finally heard him speak. "Mom?" he asked again, shaking his head in disbelief, as he slowly surveyed the unusual clothes she was wearing.

Padmé reached up and placed her hand gently on his cheek, as she saw his eyes focus on the shiny, slender weapon that hung on the belt at her hip, just beneath the edge of her thick, brown cloak. "Sit down, honey," she said softly, smiling at him reassuringly as his eyes met hers again. "I think we have a lot to talk about."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Deep Space - near the Alderaan system<strong>_

It loomed, like a dark, sinister moon, just beyond the planet's gravitational field, tracking slowly through space, like so many of the other satellites that orbited the countless worlds that dotted the galaxy.

Yet this one was different; it denied the natural order of gravity's pull, choosing its own path through the stars, as it swept past the small, lifeless world with barely a notice, the light of the small, yellow dwarf sun glinting brightly off its silver, metallic hull.

It had taken nearly twenty years, and countless lives, to complete it. Even now, as it moved through space at a speed far faster than something of its massive size should be able to move, the hundreds of lives that milled about inside it worked incessantly, as the massive star destroyer approached it, dwarfed by the immense size of the massive space station, as it made its way through space on its mission of destruction.

* * *

><p>It was a strange mix of men that sat around the glossy black conference table; senators and officers, all servants to the Emperor himself. The stormtroopers that lined the walls of the large, round conference room looked on, as the men's voices mingled with one another, echoing off the smooth metal walls, as they continued to argue loudly.<p>

A young, somewhat slimy-looking young general, Commander Tagge banged his hand down firmly on the smooth, metal table, gazing across the room angrily as the other voices finally fell silent.

"Until this battle station is fully operational," Tagge snapped, glaring across the table toward the thin wisp of a man across from him, "we are vulnerable. The Rebel Alliance is too well equipped," he said, glancing around the table at the other who surrounded it. "They're far more dangerous than you realize."

Admiral Motti waved his thin, knotty finger at the dark haired young Tagge, glaring at him disdainfully as he spoke. "Dangerous to your starfleet, Commander," he said, his voice quite smug and confident as he stared across the table at him. "_Not_ to this battle station."

The others around the table watched, somewhat amused, as Tagge slammed his hand down on the table again. "The Rebellion will still continue to gain support in the Imperial Senate, as long as..."

He stopped, as he suddenly heard the doors at the head of the room whisk open. Tagge watched, as did the others, as the gaunt, slim Governor entered; his steel-gray eyes and chiseled face commanded astute attention, but Tagge's eyes, and those of his counterparts around the table, were instantly drawn to the dark, slender figure that followed along behind him, her dark black cloak swirling around her boots as she walked.

Tagge stood up, somewhat slowly, just as his counterparts did; he watched in silence, as Grand Moff Tarkin, governor of the outland regions, took his seat at the head of the table. "The Imperial Senate will no longer be any concern to us," Tarkin said, quite unemotionally, as he placed the small datapad he'd brought with him on the table in front of him. "I've just received word that the Emperor has dissolved the Council permanently," he said, glancing around the table with a smug, evil smile. "The last remnants of the old Republic have been swept away."

"That's impossible!" Tagge interjected, unable to hold his fiery tongue at this incredible, unbelievable news. "How will the Emperor maintain control without the bureaucracy?"

"The regional governors now have direct control over their territories," Tarkin replied, nodding his head slowly. "Fear will keep the local systems in line," he said, a sinister grin spreading over his steel-hard face as he glanced around the table at his constituents. "Fear of this battle station."

"And what of the Rebellion?" Commander Tagge snapped, glaring back across the table at Governor Tarkin again. "If the rebels have obtained a complete technical readout of this battle station, it is possible, however unlikely," he said, raising his eyebrow as he spoke, "that they will find a weakness, and exploit it."

All eyes around the table suddenly turned to the dark, sinister form that stood just behind Governor Tarkin. "I wouldn't concern yourself with those plans, Commander," Assaj Ventress said, her cold, confident voice echoing through the room around them as she tossed the hood of her dark cloak onto her shoulders. "They'll be back in our hands soon enough."

"Any attack made against this battle station would be a useless gesture, no matter what technical data they've obtained," Admiral Motti snapped, a confident smirk spreading across his thin, gaunt face as he quickly eyed his companions. "This station is now the ultimate power in the universe," he said, clenching his fist tightly as he pounded it on the table in front of him. "I suggest we use it."

"Don't be overly proud of this technological terror you've constructed, my good Admiral," Ventress said, her coal-black eyes regarding him with a powerful smugness. "The power to destroy a planet is insignificant, next to the power of the Force."

"Don't try to frighten us with your sorcerer's ways, Lord Ventress," Motti quipped, eyeing the Sith with an air of disdain. "Your sad devotion to that ancient religion has not helped you conjure up the stolen data tapes," he said, watching disgustedly as Ventress turned and began to walk slowly toward him. "Or given you clairvoyance to find the rebel's hidden fort..."

Governor Tarkin's eyebrow raised, slightly amused, as Motti's angry, disrespectful voice suddenly fell silent, as he thrust his hand to his throat. He looked around the table, watching the others, as they all eyed Motti quietly as he struggled to breath, as a low, deep rumble began to fill the air around them.

"My master and I find your lack of faith somewhat disturbing," Ventress said, watching with supreme satisfaction as she raised her gloved hand, tightening her fist as she reached into the Dark Side, holding the helpless admiral tight in its grip. She closed her eyes, and a deep smile spread across her pale, scared face as she reveled in the sense of profound fear and panic that flowed through the helpless man's body.

"Enough of this!" Tarkin cried, as he saw Motti's eyes begin to roll back in his head as he began to slip into unconsciousness. "This bickering is pointless," he snapped, turning his eyes toward the Sith, as she turned and looked at him. "Lord Ventress, release him!"

"As you wish," she replied, quite nonchalantly, as she gestured toward Motti again; the helpless admiral slumped forward onto the table, as he sucked a welcome breath into his air-starved lungs. He looked up at Ventress, watching with a mixture of disdain and fear, as she walked slowly back to stand behind Tarkin again, her long black cloak billowing around her boots as the low, ominous rumble began to fade.

"Now," Tarkin said, leaning closer to the table as his cold, steel-hard eyes surveyed each of them for a long moment. "Lord Ventress will provide us with the location of the rebel fortress by the time this station is fully operational," he said, picking up the datapad that lay in front of him again. "We will then crush the Rebellion with one, swift stroke."

Commander Tagge looked back at Motti again, watching him silently as he rubbed his throat, over and over. Perhaps, he thought, as he turned his eyes toward the dark clad Sith again, coming here wasn't as smart an idea as he'd once thought.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Tatooine - the Jundland Wastes<strong>_

Padmé sat beside her son on the small couch; she watched him quietly, as she sensed the heady mixture of emotions that flowed through his troubled heart. "Are you okay, honey?" she asked quietly, rubbing his back gently.

"That feels good," Luke sighed, very quietly, arching his back a bit as his mother continued to move her hand in small, round circles, up and down his back.

"Of course it does," Padmé replied, smiling softly at him as he turned his tired, somewhat bewildered face toward her. "Sometimes, when you were just a baby," she said, as he grinned, somewhat weakly, up at her, "this was the only way I could get you to go to sleep."

"It still works," Luke replied, closing his eyes as he lost himself in that warm, familiar memory.

"See?" she said softly, leaning closer to him and taking his hand in hers. "Some things never change," she said, watching as he turned his troubled eyes toward hers again. "Even though a lot of other things do."

Luke turned his head slowly, looking back at his father, and Obi-Wan, as they stood quietly near the window across from him. "So," he sighed, looking at his father with a befuddled grin, "is there anything else you need to tell me, other than the fact that you're all Jedi Knights?"

"Actually, I'm the only Jedi Knight here, right now," Padmé corrected, as Luke looked back at her again, openly amused. "Your father's a Master, and so is Master Obi-Wan," she said, her own grin widening as she saw him roll his eyes and shake his head at her comment.

"Sorry," Luke replied, flatly. "Didn't mean to offend you, Dad," he said, shrugging his shoulders slowly. "I'm kind of new to all of this stuff."

"It's okay, son," Anakin replied, nodding his head slowly as he stood across from Obi-Wan, his arms folded thoughtfully in front of his Jedi robes. "You've been through enough for one day," he said, grinning slyly as he watched Padmé continue to rub his shoulders gently. "I think you've earned the right to make a few mistakes."

"It's the ones your sister's made that are worrying me the most right now," Anakin sighed, his expression growing far more serious as he turned and looked at Obi-Wan again. "How could she do this, get herself wrapped up in the Rebellion, without us knowing it?" he asked, gazing out of the window again, watching as the larger sun began to dip below the horizon.

"You and Mom managed to keep the fact that our mother was Queen of Naboo and that both of you are Jedi Knights a secret for eighteen years," Luke said, watching with no small hint of amusement as his parents looked at each other for a long moment. "I'd say it comes naturally, at this point," he sighed, shaking his head slowly as he reached over and picked up the freshly refilled cup that Obi-Wan had brought him.

"The boy has a point," Obi-Wan sighed, as he and his old padawan looked at each other.

"Well, it's not the same," Anakin said, his long brown Jedi robes swirling around his boots as he walked slowly over and sat down on the edge of the table across from his wife and son. "What we did, we did to protect them from the Emperor," he said, turning his gaze to his old mentor again. "What Leia's done is irresponsible, plain and simple," he sighed, resting his elbows on his knees as he ran his fingers through his shaggy blond hair.

"Well, regardless of how or why she's done it," Padmé sighed, shaking her head, "she's in trouble, and we've got to find her."

"Agreed," Obi-Wan said, nodding his head firmly as he folded his arms across his chest. "The question is, how and where do we start looking for her?"

"The message said that she wanted you to deliver Artoo to Senator Organa, on Alderaan," Anakin mused, sitting back up slowly as he looked back at his old master again. "Seems to me that Bail would be as likely as anyone to know where she is, or where she was going."

"Well," Padmé sighed, reaching down as deeply as she could into the Force; it was taking every bit of strength she could muster to keep her emotions under control, to resist the urge to panic, to fight back the terrible wave of despair that dogged her as she thought of her daughter, of where she might be, and of what fate might have befallen her.

"It sounds to me," she sighed, "like a trip to visit Bail is in order."

"You're coming with us, aren't you, Master?" Anakin asked, regarding his old master curiously for a moment; he already knew his answer, even before he saw the eager grin on his face.

"I wouldn't miss this for the world," Obi-Wan said, his eyes sparkling just as they did long ago, as he reached over and patted Anakin's shoulder. "Just let me gather my things, and I'll be ready to go in a moment."

Anakin watched Obi-Wan, as his old master walked quickly toward the back of the house. "So," he said, turning his attention to his son again, as he held his hand out toward him. "What do you say we go rescue your sister?" he asked, smiling slyly at him as Luke reached up and took hold of his hand tightly, as Anakin helped him up.

"Why not?" Luke said, shrugging his shoulders as he and his mother exchanged grin.

It had been an amazing day, he thought to himself, as he closed his eyes and returned his mother's warm embrace; tomorrow would, most likely, prove to be just as amazing.

* * *

><p><em><strong>The Lars Homestead<strong>_

Shanda looked back over her shoulder, back through the small kitchen door into the main living area. She stood there quietly for a long moment, slowly drying the glass in her hands, as she watched Lana talk with Owen and Beru; even from this distance, she could see the small picture frame that Lana held in her hands.

"So, how much does she know?" Shanda asked, finally, turning her attention and her eyes back to Sola again as she handed her the glass she'd just finished drying.

"Well," Sola sighed, as she placed the small glass back in the cupboard beside her, "Most of what she knows right now is about her mother's past." She closed the cupboard door, folding her arms across her chest as Shanda turned off the faucet and laid the towel in her hands on the counter beside her. "She knows that Padmé was once queen, and that Anakin was a Jedi, and that's about it."

"I didn't tell her much about what happened, after the start of the war," Sola continued, following Shanda's gaze back to where her youngest niece sat on the couch beside Beru. "She didn't ask," she said, shaking her head as she and Shanda looked back at one another again, "and I didn't offer. I thought it'd be best if Anakin and Padmé told her about all of that."

"So, she doesn't know about Padmé, or me, then," Shanda said, shaking her head slowly; she reached up and tucked her long, red hair behind her ear, as she watched Sola close her eyes and shake her head.

"No," Sola replied, with something of a sense of relief in her voice. "I told her about the Emperor destroying the Jedi Order, and that Anakin and her mother hid all of this from them to protect them," she said, watching Shanda as she looked back out at Lana and nodded her head slowly. "That seemed to be enough for her, at least for now," she said, a faint smile returning to her lips as she continued. "All she wanted, after that, was to get here and find her mom and dad."

"How did she take it, when she found out?" Shanda asked, watching Sola as she raised her eyebrows and sighed, quite deeply, at hearing her question.

"She was pretty upset, at first," Sola sighed, sliding a bit closer to Shanda as they stood there, side by side, gazing out toward the living room where Lana sat with her aunt and uncle. "But I don't think she was upset in an angry kind of way," she said, her expression becoming deeply thoughtful as she shook her head slowly.

Shanda listened intently, as Sola continued. "I think she was scared, more than anything," Sola mused, shifting her gaze back to Shanda again. "I think she was afraid that everything she knew, everything she loved, was in danger of slipping away, somehow."

Shanda smiled, as she watched Sola look back out at Lana again. "I think all she wanted was for Padmé, and especially her father, to reassure her that everything was going to be all right," she said, shrugging her shoulders as she grinned back at her.

"Good," Shanda sighed, wrapping her arms around herself tightly as she leaned back against the counter behind her. "I've always been so worried about how she, and Luke and Leia, were going to take it when it all finally came out in the open," she said, shaking her head as she spoke. "I've always been afraid they'd be resentful, that they'd feel like we lied to them, all of us."

"No, I don't think that'd ever happen," Sola replied, shaking her head slowly. "Lana's very mature for her age, and she understands why they did what they did, and I think Luke will, too," she said, turning her eyes back to Shanda again.

"Leia, now," Sola sighed, taking a long deep breath as she raised her eyebrows curiously, "Is another matter entirely."

"You think she'll be upset?" Shanda asked, as Sola sighed again and shook her head, very slowly.

"Leia's too much like her mother," Sola replied, a thoughtful frown spreading over her face. "And not the Padmé you've known all of your life, either," she said, looking back at Shanda as she listened intently to her. "But the one that I knew, before Anakin came into her life."

"Headstrong, argumentative, hard-headed, opinionated," Sola sighed, her frown slowly turning into a mix of a smirk and a grin as she remembered the little sister she'd known so many years ago. "It was her way or no way, most of the time. She wanted to know everything, about every situation she was involved in, and nothing made her angrier than to have information withheld from her," she said, grinning as she saw the look of utter disbelief that spread across Shanda's face as she listened to Sola describe Padmé.

"That's just so hard to believe," Shanda replied. "I just can't picture Aunt Padmé like that, she's always been so sweet, so calm and carefree," she said. "I've never even seen her lose her temper or raise her voice, for that matter."

"Well," Sola laughed softly, as she reached over and rubbed Shanda's shoulder affectionately, "That's because she came into your life _after_ Anakin came into hers," she said, her smile brightening alongside Shanda's.

"He changed her, that much?" Shanda asked, obviously quite fascinated by this whole conversation. She'd always loved seeing her aunt and uncle together; they adored each other, and they'd never tried to hide it. She'd always hoped, with all of her heart, that, someday, she'd find a man to love, and love her, as deeply as Anakin loved Padmé.

"Mm,hmm," Sola mused, nodding her head firmly. "And he was different, too, don't get me wrong," Sola continued. "But I don't know that _changed_ is such a good word, really," she said, a deeply thoughtful look on her face as she thought about her sister and brother-in-law. "I think it's more accurate to say they _completed_ each other."

"They were meant to be together, that's for sure," Sola sighed, nodding her head in agreement. "If any two people every were."

Shanda started to speak, but she stopped, as she suddenly felt the whole house shudder as a low, powerful rumble surged through the landscape around them.

"What in the world was that?" Sola asked, reaching up and placing her hand instinctively on the cupboard door behind her as she heard the glasses in it begin to tinkle and vibrate, and then fall silent again as the low, ominous _boom_ began to dissipate.

"I don't know," Shanda replied, a deep frown on her face as she started through the doorway to the living area, with Sola close on her heels.

"What the hell was that?" Owen snapped, standing up from his seat on the couch, as Shanda and Sola trotted into the living room the join them. He watched Shanda as, without a word, she started to run toward the stairs that led up to the open sand above. "It sounded like some kind of damned explosion."

"Owen!" Beru scolded, placing her hands over Lana's ears as she scowled up at him. "Watch your language around your niece and daughter, if you please."

"Sorry," he shot back, a sarcastic smirk on his face as he turned his attention back to his daughter again, as she made her way quickly toward the staircase; he started to follow her, but he stopped, reaching over and grabbing Sola's arm, steadying both her and himself, as another thunderous roar echoed across the landscape above them, sending the items on the shelves in the house rattling and clanking together wildly.

Shanda froze in her steps, reaching into the Force to balance and catch herself, as she suddenly felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck. She turned and looked back toward her father, and her family, as she suddenly sensed the quiet urging of the Force inside her.

"What is that, Aunt Beru?" Lana asked, turning her obviously frightened eyes up to her aunt as she reached over and squeezed her hand tightly in her own.

"I'm not sure, honey," Beru said, placing her free arm instinctively around Lana's shoulders; she and Lana both looked over at Lana's droid, who had, until that moment, been sitting quietly beside her, as her excited, electronic voice suddenly filled their ears.

"Excuse me, Mister Lars," Kayko said, raising her shiny, silver hand as he and everyone else turned their eyes toward her. "But my long-range sensors are detecting that two of the larger moisture storage facilities on the outer perimeter have just been destroyed," Kayko said, the tone of alarm openly evident in her usually calm, electronic female voice.

"I'm also detected two rather large transports heading this way, at a very high rate of speed."

"Transports?" Shanda asked, running quickly across the room toward the rest of her family. "What kind of transports?" she asked, placing her hands on the back of the chair in front of her, squeezing it tightly as she felt the disconcerting, dark tremor in the Force that flowed through her grow stronger by the second. "Can you tell?"

"It's difficult to be completely certain, at this distance," Kayko replied, the small indicator lights on the front of her chest plate flashing wildly as she tuned her sensors as quickly as she could. "But I calculate a ninety-three point eight percent possibility that they are Imperial KC-107 troop transports."

"Imperial troops?" Sola gasped, as she and Lana exchanged a panicked, worried glance. "Are you sure?"

Owen looked over at Shanda, as their eyes met in an instant; he felt his own heart begin to pound in his chest, as he suddenly saw the look in his daughter's eyes.

He didn't like it... not one bit.

* * *

><p>Luke pulled back on the throttle controls of his speeder, as Ben reached out and waved at Anakin, the sleeve of his weathered old, brown cloak flapping wildly in the hot afternoon breeze as he motioned for them to stop. Luke stared out, in stunned disbelief, at the huge plume of dark, acrid smoke that rose from the decimated Sandcrawler, painting the sky in front of them an angry, brownish black as it rose into the late afternoon sky.<p>

"What happened?" Luke gasped, as he powered down the speeder's thrusters as they came to a stop, glancing over at Ben as Anakin brought the speeder bike that he and Padmé were riding to a stop alongside them.

"I'm not sure," Ben answered, tossing his hood back onto his shoulders and shaking his head sadly as he saw the tiny bodies that littered the landscape around the Jawa's sandcrawler.

Entire colonies of the peculiar, but harmless, little creatures lived in them; the massive, slow moving vehicles were heavily armored, but usually bore no weapons, a mobile home, as it were, where they lived and conducted their business, selling the droids, equipment, and whatever else the nomadic little orange-eyed creatures managed to scrounge up as they roamed across the barren Tatooine landscape.

Each of them was different, and Luke instantly recognized this one, from its strange, blockish shape. "Dad, these are the same ones who sold us Artoo and Threepio," he said, as Anakin took Padmé's hand and helped her down from the saddle behind him.

Luke turned his attention to his mother, as he watched her climb down off the back of the speeder bike, and take several steps toward the horrible, gruesome scene that lay strewn before them. "Those poor creatures," she sighed, lifting her hand to her mouth her long, brown hair fluttering in the breeze as she surveyed the carnage; she reached down, taking Anakin's hand tightly in hers, as he climbed off of the bike and walked up slowly beside her.

Padmé felt her heart stop, as she suddenly heard a small, terrified screech and sensed a terrible, painful tremor in the Force; she watched in horror as, flailing its small arms wildly, a tiny jawa, completely engulfed in flames, emerged from one of the blazing doorways on the side of the smoking, burning hulk, and dropped onto the sand below.

She couldn't bear to watch any more; she turned around, flinging her arms tightly around Anakin and burying her face in his shoulder, as the little jawa's painful screams echoed through the desert around them.

"Oh, my God," Anakin sighed, as he clutched Padmé close to his chest, watching as the poor creature thrashed for another moment or two, and then lay still on the sand, the flames finally silencing its agonized cries.

"Anakin," Ben said, as he and Luke climbed quickly out of the speeder, "Let's see if there's anything we can do to save any of them," he said, his own sad, weathered face mirroring the sorrow in his old padawan's, as Anakin nodded his head, very slowly.

"Luke, stay with your mother, okay?" Anakin asked quietly as Luke walked over to join him, placing his hands gently on his mother's shoulders. Padmé turned around, looking up at her son, a look of intense sadness on her usually happy face, as, without a word, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"Be careful, Dad," Luke said, holding his mother tightly in his arms as he watched his father and Ben trot across the sand, toward the smoking, burning hulk that lay a short distance away.

* * *

><p>Lana stood beside her Aunt Sola, clinging to her tightly; her heart pounded in her chest, and she tightened her arms around Sola's waist as she watched the four Imperial troopers that stood a short distance from them level their weapons at them.<p>

"It's okay, sweetie," Sola whispered, as she tightened her grip on her niece in return. "It's okay," she said again, trying hard to convince herself, as much as Lana, as she looked at the shiny, black blaster rifles that were pointed at them.

"Why are they here?" she asked softly, her voice trembling in her throat, as she, Beru, and Sola stood against the wall, with Owen and Shanda standing just in front of them.

"I don't know," Shanda whispered, as quietly as she could, glancing back at her little cousin. "Don't worry, though," she said, nodding her head as she smiled reassuringly at her, as she saw the look of fear in Lana's bright, green eyes. "Everything's going to be alright, I promise."

Lana jumped, as one of the troopers barked loudly at Shanda, taking a step toward her and raising his weapon. "Shut up," he snapped, as Shanda snapped her angry, brooding face back around and glared at him. "We told you, no talking. Understand?"

"Clearly," Shanda growled, clenching her fists tightly at her sides, as she glowered back at him. She could feel the anger growing inside of her, as she looked at that bright white uniform, and those dark, empty face-plates that stared back at her.

It was an anger that she'd carried inside her for a long time, one that had been born that terrible night, long ago, when she'd watched those troopers storm into the Jedi Temple, their weapons blazing, like a brilliant white plague, snuffing out the lives of her friends, her teachers, the only family she had ever known.

It'd been a difficult thing for her to overcome, the anger and hatred she felt for those who'd destroyed the Temple, and the Jedi Order, that night when she'd hidden in that tiny, dark air duct with those crying, frightened young children. Her life had been destroyed that night, and, though she'd found happiness and contentment a hundred times over with her new family, it had taken years of training, and the untold patience and guidance of her mentor, Obi-Wan Kenobi, to overcome that hate.

_Anger leads to hate, and hate leads to the Dark Side_, Obi-Wan would tell her, time and time again, placing his hand gently on her shoulder when he would sense the rage that welled up in her young heart whenever they would encounter one of the white-clad troopers in one of the cities.

_Yes, Master Obi-Wan_, she would reply, struggling with all of her might to suppress that rage, and the desire to lash out, to make those responsible for the death of her friends, and the life she'd known since the death of her own parents, pay dearly for what they had done. Revenge wasn't the Jedi way, she knew that, and as she, and her oneness with the Force had grown, she'd come to realize that Obi-Wan had been right; to lash out, to attack with no reason, would indeed have been a step toward that side of the Force that all Jedi spent their lives keenly aware of, and trying desperately to avoid.

Yet, what she felt now was different indeed, and she glanced over at her father as he stood beside her, the fear and trepidation clearly visible in his eyes as he turned his bearded face toward her. She looked back toward the stairway, as they suddenly heard another pair of boots on the heavy metal stairs.

She watched, her fists still clenched at her sides, as the Imperial officer's shiny black boots dropped down onto the floor of their main living room. _How dare they_, Shanda thought, her blood beginning to boil, as she watched the officer walk slowly toward them, his hands folded behind his back, as he surveyed their home. _How dare they invade our home like this_, she thought, as he stopped just in front of them and glared at them, disdainfully.

"Where are they?" he said, quite nonchalantly, as he reached up and removed his cap, dusting the sand from it onto the floor at his feet.

"Where are who?" Owen asked, looking back at the tall, dark haired officer with a puzzled, irritated expression.

"The droids," the officer replied, quite tersely, as he examined his cap carefully, continuing to dust the remaining bits of sand from its dark black brim.

Lana glanced over her shoulder, looking at her own droid as Kayko stood quietly against the wall behind her. She felt her heart pound even harder in her chest, as she considered that they might try to take her best friend and companion from her.

"We have lots of droids," Owen replied, watching the officer as he turned his face toward him. "Or _had_ might be a better word. Most of them were in the two storage facilities you destroyed when you came here," he snapped, his own irritation clearly evident in his voice as he spoke. "You might be able to find a few pieces left, if you take a metal detector out there."

"Amusing," the Imperial officer snorted, smiling disdainfully back at Owen. "You know the two I mean," he said, glaring back at Owen angrily as he placed his cap back on his head. "You purchased them less than forty-eight hours ago," he said, glancing down at the timepiece on his wrist. "Where are they?"

"They're not here," Shanda interjected, drawing the officer's attention to her and away from her father. "One of them malfunctioned and led the other out into the desert the night we got them. We don't know where they are."

"Unfortunate," the officer sighed, nodding his head slowly as he watched Shanda glare back at him. "No matter," he said, as he glanced over at Kayko, eying the little silver droid suspiciously. "We'll find them," he said, as he motioned toward the trooper who stood closest to him.

"Bring this one with us," he said, gesturing toward Kayko and then turning on his heels back toward the stairs behind him. "It might be useful."

"No!" Lana shouted, shaking her head defiantly as she watched the trooper begin to walk toward her droid. "You leave her alone, do you understand me?" she cried, her eyes tearing up as Sola held tightly to her.

"You bastard," Sola snapped, glaring back angrily at the Imperial officer as he turned and looked back at her, quite indifferently. "This may be just a droid to you, but it's her closest friend," she snapped, as she tried desperately to hold onto Lana as she struggled to grab hold of Kayko as the trooper started toward her. "How can you do this to a little girl?"

"No, you can't take her!" Lana cried, her eyes filling with tears as she grabbed hold of Kayko's arm and pulled her close to her. "My father and I built her, don't take her!"

"Oh, Daddy, please," she cried, squeezing her eyes shut tightly as the tears began to flow down her cheeks. "Please don't let them take her!"

Shanda felt her blood run cold, as she heard the words that left the officer's lips next. "Friends are something she'll no longer need," he said, quite coldly. "Kill all of them," he said, turning his attention toward the other three troopers. "And make it look like an accident."

It was the invitation she'd been waiting for.

Owen glanced over at Shanda; he'd seen his daughter at practice, many times, but he'd never seen her move as quickly as she did at that moment. Shanda spun around, almost instantly, and, with one quick motion, she stretched out her hand toward the bag that lay on the floor near Lana's feet.

Lana looked down, through a haze of tears, as she suddenly saw her father's old light saber leap from the bag on the floor and into her cousin's outstretched hand; she watched, with a sense of wonder and disbelief, as Shanda snatched the strange weapon from the air and, with one swift motion, stretched out her free hand toward the trooper that stood only inches from Kayko.

It seemed surreal, unbelievable, as the trooper suddenly cried out in terror; he was lifted off the floor in an instant, like a leaf in a sandstorm, and thrown toward the wall behind him, as though some invisible hands had seized him as if he was nothing more than a mere child's toy.

His cries fell silent, however, before his companions ever knew what happened; he struck the wall with such incredible force that the sound of his neck snapping cleanly in two reverberated through the house almost as loudly as the sound of his body crashing into the duraplast wall that took his life.

Shanda had never felt the Force flow through her so strongly; in an instant, she disengaged the lock on Anakin's old light saber and glowered back at the three troopers who scrambled to raise their weapons.

Lana stumbled backwards, gazing up through a haze of tears, in wide-eyed wonder, at Shanda as Sola pulled her back into her arms and down to the floor behind them. "You picked the wrong house this time, you worthless bastards," Shanda growled, as, with a flick of her finger, she engaged the igniter on her uncle's old weapon.

It had all taken only a split second, and the Imperial officer spun on his heels, as he heard the ominous sound of Anakin's light saber as it blazed to life, after lying dormant and quiet for so many years.

It was the last thing he would ever see, as, in horror and fear, he watched the innocent-looking, dusky-haired young woman who wielded it bring it crashing down on him, her eyes glowing as fiercely as the shimmering shaft of light that, in less than an instant, sent him unceremoniously into whatever world waited beyond this one.

* * *

><p>Padmé stood quietly in the hot, late afternoon sun, her arms folded across her chest; her hair flapped gently in the breeze as she watched, quite somberly, as Threepio carefully carried another bundle of lifeless bodies in his strong, metal arms toward the small, impromptu funeral pyre they'd fashioned a short distance from the sandcrawler's burned out hulk.<p>

Anakin and Obi-Wan had tried, quite valiantly, to rescue any of the unfortunate creatures from the burning wreck, but whoever had done this terrible, heartless dead had left none alive. They had managed to find one, but he was so badly burned that Obi-Wan had taken pity on him and, with a quick flick of his light saber, had sent the poor creature into whatever peaceful afterlife awaited the benign, unobtrusive little creatures.

She closed her eyes, her heart aching again as she watched their trusted old droid drop the small bundle of bodies into the fire, sending another plume of ashes whisking into the air above. She opened them, turning her attention to her son, as she suddenly heard his voice as he walked slowly toward her.

"It looks like sand people did this," Luke sighed, shaking his head as he glanced around at the landscape around them. "Look," he said, gesturing toward the ground as he walked up to join his mother. "There's gaffi sticks, bantha tracks," he said, shaking his head with confusion. "It's just... I've never heard of them hitting anything this _big_ before."

"Me, either," Anakin sighed, his shaggy blond hair tossing in the breeze as he walked up to join them. "I lived here for years, and I've heard of just about everything they ever did," he said, handing the small canteen of water he'd fetched from their speeder to Padmé. "I've just never heard of them attacking Jawas before."

"There's no honor in it," Anakin said, squinting in the bright afternoon sunlight as he scanned the terrible scene with his eyes. "Sand people usually won't prey on those weaker and less well armed than they are," he said, watching as Padmé closed her eyes and took a long, thirsty swig from the canteen he'd brought her.

They all turned and looked at Ben, as he walked slowly over to join them. "They didn't," he said, shaking his bearded head slowly as he spoke. "But we are meant to_ think_ they did."

"What do you mean?" Padmé asked, her expression growing deeply serious as she wiped her mouth on her sleeve, and handed the canteen back to Anakin. "Are you saying the sand people didn't do this?"

"Look," Ben said, crouching down and gesturing toward the small, human-like footprints that covered the desert sand around them. "These tracks are side by side," he said, looking up at Anakin, Padmé, and Luke as they gathered around him. "Sand people always march single file to hide their numbers," he said, dusting off his weathered, calloused hands as he stood up slowly beside them.

"And these blast points," he said, pointing toward the dark, carbon-caked hull of the sandcrawler, as they walked slowly over toward it. "Far too accurate for sand people," he said, shaking his head as he watched Anakin study the melted, smoking metal plating carefully. "Only Imperial stormtroopers are so precise," he said, turning his deeply worried, thoughtful face back to Padmé and Luke again.

"But," Padmé said, shaking her head slowly, a deeply confused look on her face as she glanced over and watched Threepio toss another bundle of bodies onto the funeral pyre a short distance from them, "Why would Imperial troops want to slaughter Jawas?"

She froze, as she watched Threepio turn and shuffle back to gather another armful of bodies from the barren sand around them. Her eyes met Anakin's, almost instantly, as a horrible realization suddenly surged through her mind.

"Oh, God, Anakin," she whispered, as she reached over and took hold of his arm, squeezing it tightly. "You don't think..."

It only took a second for Luke to put two and two together, as he watched his father glance back over his shoulder, toward the speeder, where Artoo stood, quietly watching as Threepio went about his macabre business.

"If they traced the droids here, then they may have figured out who they sold them to," Luke said, a deeply worried look spreading over his face as he realized what might be happening. "And that would lead them back..."

Luke stopped, mid sentence, as his father suddenly closed his eyes and stumbled toward him; he reached out, taking hold of Anakin's arm, as he, Ben, and Padmé helped steady him.

"Anakin," Padmé said, reaching up and placing her hand gently on his cheek as he stumbled again, squeezing his eyes shut, as though he were in terrible, anguished pain. "Ani, are you all right?"

Anakin felt his pulse begin to race, as he sensed the terrible tremor that traveled to him through the Force; he opened his eyes, looking back at Padmé in silence, as he suddenly heard the voice that echoed in his mind and heart.

_Oh, Daddy, please! Please don't let them take her!_

"Anakin, what's wrong?" Padmé said, cupping his face in her hands as she looked at him, deeply frightened. "You're scaring me, baby," she said, as she saw the look of abject terror in his eyes. "What is it?"

Padmé felt her heart stop, as he finally managed to speak. "It's Lana," he said, shaking his head slowly as he stood up, as best he could, as his daughter's voice rang through every fiber of his being.

"Lana?" Padmé asked, running close behind him as he turned and bolted toward the speeder bike that waited a short distance away. "What's wrong?"

"Let's go!" Anakin shouted, as he leapt onto the bike and started its engines with one swift motion. He took hold of Padmé's hand, catching her in mid-jump, and swung her up behind him as he watched Luke and Ben run toward the speeder beside them.

"Luke, you and Ben get Threepio loaded up, and get back to the homestead as quickly as you can," he said, watching as Luke stopped in his tracks, nodding his head firmly.

"Wait, Anakin!" Ben shouted, raising his hand in protest as Luke ran toward Threepio to fetch him; he already knew that trying to stop his old padawan was a useless gesture, but he had to try. "It's too dangerous!"

"Ani, what's wrong?" Padmé asked again, trying hard to swallow the lump in her throat as she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.

"Lana's in trouble, and she's here," Anakin said softly, shaking his head as he knocked the bike into gear, glancing over and watching as Luke powered up the old speeder, with a speed and urgency that rivaled his own.

"We've got to get back to the homestead," he said, as he reached down and squeezed Padmé's hand tightly. "Something terrible is happening."

Obi-Wan sighed, quite deeply, as he watched Anakin punch the throttle on the speeder bike; he watched, through the cloud of angry dust that swirled behind it, as the small bike roared across the open desert toward the horizon beyond them.

"Damn it, Anakin," he sighed, shaking his head slowly as he watched the small speeder disappear into the trail of dust that followed it. "You'll never change. You're as bone-headed as she is."

He turned, as quickly as he could, and went to help Luke round up the droids. He could only hope that they would get there in time.


	6. Chapter 6 - Blood on the Sand, Part 2

A lone speeder bike streaked across the Jundland Wastes, leaving a cloud of dust a kilometer long in its wake; two lone figures were perched atop the speeding juggernaut, their bodies pressed together so tightly that they seemed to be melded into one.

Outcroppings of rock flashed by faster than the mind could register, let alone the nervous system react, yet somehow the steel-eyed driver managed to avoid every danger, all the while pushing the bike faster, faster.

But it still wasn't fast enough.

* * *

><p><em><strong>The Lars Homestead<strong>_

It was hot, hotter than he'd been used to in a long time- especially in this helmet.

Even with its built-in cooling system, the trooper could feel the beads of sweat that rolled slowly down his face; he ran his tongue over his lips, the taste of salt biting into it, as he turned slowly back toward his companions.

The trooper's helmet-mounted intercom clicked once, and his tinny, hollow voice followed. "What's taking so long?" Trooper D-1191 asked; he, along with half of his squad mates, was covering the perimeter of the small desert home the rest of the squad had infiltrated precisely fifteen standard minutes earlier. Their commander had given the troopers a five minute head start to clear the building and round up any occupants before following them inside, ordering the men he left behind to guard the transport they'd traveled in, and bade them to be on the lookout for anyone else.

"_I doubt the other peasants around here would be foolish enough to try and interfere with Imperial business," _his commander had said, with a disparaging sniff, as he looked back out toward the open desert behind them.

"_But the same can't be said for those…Sand People," _he said, turning his dark-visored gaze back toward those that remained on the hot sand._ "If anything moves, shoot first, and ask questions later," _he said, watching as his troopers nodded their heads and shifted their blaster rifles in their gloved hands._ "Remember, Lord Ventress herself authorized this mission." _Then he'd disappeared down the rough adobe steps that led into the underground home.

Since then, there had been complete silence.

When none of his squad mates responded, D-1191 tried again. "Should we go inside and check things out?" he said, his intercom clicking once again.

"The commander ordered us to stay here," F-2354 reminded him, his own intercom hissing to life with a loud click. "Besides, these moisture farmers can't have anything that could stand up to our firepower," he said, shaking his head as he started to turn back towards the narrow stairs behind him. "What could go wrong?"

F-2354 had hardly finished speaking when a sharp, blood-chilling scream echoed up to the troopers from the stairwell that their commander, and the rest of their squadron, had descended only moments earlier, and then was cut short.

"What was that?" D-1191 asked, as they all looked at each other. "Did you hear that?" he asked, as he took several steps over toward the trooper nearest him. Something about that scream had struck him, hard; he suddenly felt nervous, for the first time in a long while.

"You three, with me," F-2354 snapped, pointing toward D-1191, D-8218, and E-4376, then at the stairwell. "We're going to check on the commander," he said, starting toward the narrow stairs as he glanced back over his shoulder at the troopers who remained.

"The rest of you, stay here, and remember- shoot first, ask questions later."

They had barely moved two steps, when they all froze suddenly; they watched, a cold chill running through their bodies, as one of their squad mates stumbled up through the doorway, a thin stream of scarlet blood trickling from a wound in his shoulder, marring his pristine white armor.

"It's- it's a-" he stammered, as he clamored up the last couple of stairs, the terror clearly evident in his voice; he never finished his thought, and his intercom fell silent as, with a flash of bright blue light behind him, the trooper's head was severed neatly from his body.

The decapitated head, still encased in its gleaming white helmet, landed at D-1191's booted feet; he struggled to lift his rifle, as the smell of ozone filled his nostrils, mixed with the metallic tang of blood. "Jedi," he finished, in a horrified whisper, as he turned his visored eyes back up toward the stairwell.

It was the last word he would ever say.

* * *

><p>Padmé knew that Anakin had managed to urge the bike to speeds it hadn't reached in years, but the journey from Obi-Wan's hut to Owen and Beru's moisture farm seemed to take years. Lana's fear was as real to her now as the rough texture of Anakin's cloak beneath her cheek, and it grew in her mind and heart until she felt as though her entire being would be overwhelmed by it.<p>

One of Anakin's hands slipped from the handlebars of the speeder bike to his waist, where Padmé's arms were wrapped tightly around him. His hand found hers and he squeezed, for his comfort as much as hers, and he felt her arms tighten around his waist; not a word was said between them, yet their hearts spoke volumes as they roared across the angry, barren landscape so quickly that she felt her head begin to swim as it passed before her eyes in a reddish-gold blur.

She closed her eyes and pressed herself even tighter against his back, praying that, somehow, Anakin could make the bike run even faster.

* * *

><p>Sola looked up, from her place on the floor beside Lana, as Owen knelt quickly beside her. "Here, take this," he said, as he pressed the dead commander's blaster pistol into Sola's clammy hands, his light blue eyes mirroring the fright and astonishment in her own.<p>

"Stay here and protect them," he said, scrambling to his feet as she watched him stand up. "I'm going to try and help Shanda."

Sola opened her mouth to protest, but she held her tongue, watching Owen as he turned and ran from the room, following the cries of pain and reports of blaster rifles that filled the desert air above them.

"Honey, are you all right?" Sola asked, turning her attention to her niece; her own voice trembling as violently as Lana's body, as she placed her hand behind the young girl's back and helped her sit up beside her.

"I- I think so," Lana whispered, her frightened green eyes looking up at Sola as she pushed her disheveled, dark hair from her eyes with a trembling hand. "Kayko," she said, the alarm in her voice clearly evident, as she heard her droid struggling to sit up beside her.

"Kayko, are you okay?" Lana asked, sitting up and kneeling quickly beside her droid as she took her arm and helped her sit up.

"I think so, my lady," Kayko replied, an air of confusion and disorientation in her electronic voice, her blue eyes blinking several times as she swiveled her head toward her and watched Lana sigh with relief.

She and Sola had tackled her, for lack of a better term, albeit a bit unwillingly, as Shanda had directed a strong Force push toward them the moment her brilliant blue blade had brought a swift end to the unfortunate Imperial commander and his arrogance. It had served the purpose she'd intended, however, and Sola, Lana, and the others had found themselves thrown clear of the brunt of the fighting, which, not surprisingly, given Shanda's skill with a lightsaber, hadn't lasted long.

Lana and Sola both turned their bewildered gazes to Beru, watching as she bent down and pulled a blaster rifle from the grasp of a dead stormtrooper and then straightened up, more angry than she or Sola had ever seen her. "If he thinks I'm going to hide down here while he goes after our daughter, he's a damned old fool," she grumbled, as she took a step toward the stairs.

"Aunt Beru!" Lana half laughed, half gasped, as she heard that unseemly word escape her aunt's lips; she'd never seen her quiet, peace loving aunt even raise her voice before, much less heard her utter anything that could even remotely be interpreted as a curse.

"I'm sorry, honey," Beru said, offering her a quick, apologetic smile as she made her way toward the old adobe stairs. "But you stay here with your aunt Sola, and don't come out until we tell you it's safe, understand?" she said, pointing a firm finger toward Lana, her countenance growing fiercely angry again, as she grabbed hold of the stairway's railing.

"Beru, what do they think you're doing?" Sola called after her, shaking her head in disbelief as she watched Beru quite literally run up the stairs; it was only when she heard Lana's sudden, deep gasp, that she snapped her attention and eyes back to her again.

"Lana, are you all right?" she asked, her own heart skipping a beat as Lana placed her hand over her heart and jerked suddenly, just like she'd done the night before, when Sola had burned her finger in the kitchen.

"Mother and Daddy," she whispered, her green eyes growing wide with something that could only be described as a mixture of hope and hysteria. "I feel them!" she said, much louder, as she suddenly leapt to her feet, with a speed and nimbleness that Sola found all too familiar.

"They're here," Lana exclaimed, as, unable to resist the strong emotions that tugged at her heart, she suddenly bolted toward the stairwell. "Mother and Daddy are here!"

"Lana!" Sola cried, lunging for Lana's hand and missing it completely as she scrambled, as quickly as she could, to her feet. "Lana, wait, don't!" she called, as she watched the bright eyed young girl grab hold of the railing and run, with a speed that would have made her father proud, up into the brilliant Tatooine sun.

It was too late, Sola realized, a deep sense of despair sweeping over her, as she ran toward the stairway, the blaster Owen had given her squeezed tightly in her hand as she grabbed the railing and squinted up into the bright sun.

She was already gone.

* * *

><p>Lana fairly well leapt onto the small duroplast landing as she reached the top of the first landing, and turned the corner toward the short flight of steps that led to the courtyard; she swung her arms wildly, fighting to keep her balance as she suddenly slipped in something wet, almost oily.<p>

She gazed down in horror, through a haze of disheveled brown hair; she resisted the urge to wretch, as she watched herself skid through a pool of blood, her shoes sending a spattering of crimson droplets up to the knees of her light tan pants. Yet, somehow, she managed to keep her footing and stay upright.

Stunned, horrified, and driven by a primal urge that she couldn't understand, much less control, her aunt Sola's frightened cries registered only vaguely, as did the stormtrooper's corpses that littered the landing, and one thought burned feverishly bright in her mind, extinguishing every other stimulus that assaulted her senses.

Her parents were here. If only she could get to her parents, they would make things right.

She leapt lightly over the slumped form of the stormtrooper closest to her and charged up the stairs, heading for the surface, where she knew her parents would be waiting to fix things.

They always fixed things, she thought, her breath coming in short gasps as she sprinted toward the brilliant, orange-gold late afternoon sun above; they always fixed things.

* * *

><p>Owen squeezed the trigger of the blaster rifle he held to his shoulder, the weapon's power coils whining wildly as he laid down another barrage of covering fire for his daughter.<p>

He watched with one eye, through the weapon's sights, as his bolt hit home, sending another of the white-clad devils to the sand; he cursed when the energy pack ran dry, and cursed louder still when he suddenly realized he didn't have any more.

He stood up and threw the heavy rifle at the back of one of the troopers closest to him with all of his might, whooped in triumph as it hit home, and then dropped back into a crouch inside the stairwell when the trooper turned and began to fire at him. He covered his head with hands- as if that would really do much to protect him if he was hit- and chanced another look out toward the battle.

Owen jerked himself around, as she suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. "What are you doing up here!?" he shouted, staring at Beru in disbelief as another barrage of laser fire struck the wall just inches from them, sending another shower of hot sparks over them both.

"The same thing you are, you doddering old fool," she snapped, as he stared down at the weapon in her hands. "And don't you dare tell me to go back downstairs, either," she said, cutting him off before the words left his lips. "She's my daughter, too, you know," she said, watching her husband as he sighed and shook his head.

Beru looked out, Owen's gaze following her own, as she caught sight of her daughter, just a dozen meters or so from the landing where they hid. "Sweet merciful Force," she whispered, as she watched the sweet, peaceful girl she'd lovingly raised for so long transform before her eyes, through the power of that same Force, into a warrior of incredible, deadly accuracy.

Shanda was a whirling dervish, her long red hair flying, her lightsaber one continuous arc of blue light as she leapt and spun, avoiding some blaster bolts and deflecting others back at the stormtroopers who had fired them. Owen's heart caught in his throat, and for a moment he was transfixed by her graceful, deadly beauty. And then, thank the Force, he caught the faint but unmistakable sound of a speeder bike through the clamor of the combat that sprawled out before him. He looked out across the sand, where he spotted the bike in the distance, roaring towards his home with all the speed of a sandstorm charging across the Jundland Wastes.

Though the battle raged on in front of him, he felt a profound sense of relief wash over him; somehow, Anakin and Padmé had known they were under attack. They would be here in a few seconds, at the rate they were closing, and he was certain the three Jedi could defeat the remaining Imperials, if only Shanda could stand against them until then.

He looked back out at his daughter, just in time to see her spin and drive the blade of her weapon cleanly through the chest of another trooper, and he grimaced as he heard the unfortunate clone scream in agony as Shanda snatched the glowing blue blade from his body, sending it falling limply to the hot sand beside his fallen comrades.

Even as the adrenaline pumped through his body, Owen began to relax. It was almost over, and he knew Shanda could hold her own against the ones that remained.

And then he heard Beru cry out in panic as Lana sprinted past them, into the chaos that lay only meters ahead; he made a mad grab for her, calling her name, as, like his wife, he felt his heart begin to sink.

* * *

><p>Even at this distance, Anakin recognized the familiar energy pattern and blue blade of his old lightsaber, as his niece used it to impale yet another stormtrooper. He didn't know how she'd gotten it, or why she didn't have her own, but that didn't matter; she had it, she was using it, and she was using it well.<p>

The troopers were stunned and panicked at the unexpected appearance of a Jedi and weren't fighting as a unit, making it easier for Shanda to pick them off. _A few seconds more_, he thought to himself, a faint flicker of hope flaring in his heart, and the last four of the Imperial troops that had assaulted the Lars homestead would be dead.

That tiny flame didn't last, however, and Anakin's heart instantly turned to ice, as his blue eyes suddenly saw Lana burst from the stairway to the interior of the home and out into the fray.

Shanda hadn't seen her, as she'd bolted past her uncle and into the afternoon sun, and he knew that he and Padmé were still too far away to be of any help.

"Lana!" he screamed, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, as he saw one of the troopers turn and level his weapon at his youngest daughter; the sound of his voice was lost in the din of the engines that roared beneath him and Padmé, as the horrible truth became all too real to him.

Lana might die, and so might Shanda- and there was nothing he could do to prevent it.

* * *

><p>Shanda didn't see Lana, but she had sensed her, the moment she'd bolted past her father.<p>

"Lana, get back inside!" she screamed, breaking off her attack and dropping into a defensive stance, desperately deflecting blaster bolts away from herself and her cousin, who had stopped short beside her.

"Mother!" Lana screamed, oblivious to the events unfolding around her, as her eyes searched the desert, her heart and spirit drawn to the familiar, powerful tug of her parent's tremors; she snapped her eyes back up to her older cousin, as her loud, powerful voice suddenly snatched her back into the moment.

"Get back inside!" Shanda roared, her eyes flashing as brightly as the weapon in her hands. "_Now!"_

Shanda took one hand off the hilt of her uncle's old lightsaber and grabbed the front of Lana's tunic, as her frightened young cousin suddenly realized what was going on around her. Using both her physical strength and the Force that flowed so freely through her, she shoved her, as hard as she could, back towards the stairwell behind them.

That moment of distraction nearly proved fatal, as one blast of energy nicked her left shoulder, just as another grazed her right thigh. Shanda cried out as the force of the blaster bolts spun her around, sending her to her knees on the scorching hot sand.

Behind her, Lana squeezed her eyes shut, as she fell to the hot sand; though she still didn't understand how, she instantly felt the terrible wave of pain that flowed through Shanda's shoulder and leg, and she instinctively cried out, just a split second after her older cousin, almost as if she was the one who had been hit.

Lana's howl of pain and fear sent another burst of adrenaline through Shanda, and she staggered to her feet, reaching deeply into the Force to dampen the worst of the pain.

"_NO!"_ she screamed, as she reached into the Force and leapt into the air, somersaulting up and over the trooper who lunged for her, just as his weapon discharged into the sand where she'd been kneeling only a microsecond before.

Her dusky red hair almost completely obscured her vision, but she didn't need it, anyway; she could sense everything around her, and she swung her hair back over her shoulders, revealing her flashing, angry eyes as she brought her blade down and took the trooper's arm off cleanly at the shoulder, sending his arm, and the rest of him, crashing to the sand with a howl of pain.

"_NO!"_ She screamed again, spinning her weapon gracefully beside her as she lunged toward the remaining troopers; these Imperial bastards might kill her, she thought to herself, and if that be her destiny, then so be it.

But she would be damned if they would hurt her family.

* * *

><p>Anakin and Padmé's hearts spoke for them, so not a word was said aloud, yet they both instantly knew what they planned to do; tightening his grip on the bike's handlebars, Anakin planted his boots firmly on its footpads, as he felt Padmé's hands leave his waist and move to his shoulders.<p>

Gripping his shoulders tightly for balance, Padmé stood up on the seat of the speeder as Anakin steered it on a parallel course to where Shanda was facing down the remaining stormtroopers. She narrowed her eyes, and her cloak and long hair whipped wildly in the wind as it rushed by her, the sharp spray of sand stinging her hands and face, nearly blinding her, as they careened across the terrain, closing the remaining quarter kilometer between them and the troopers at breakneck speed.

Yet, even as she felt her muscles tense as the last few meters slipped away, only one thought frightened her. She fixed her eyes on her daughter, the sense of fear and pain that flowed through Lana permeating every fiber of her being, and she prayed that Anakin could coax just one more burst of speed out of the weathered old speeder bike, as she waited for the urging and direction of the Force that flowed through her.

She didn't have to wait long.

_Now,_ she heard that still, quiet voice say, through the din that roared around her; over the years, Padmé had learned to listen to the guidance of the Force, and she had learned that lesson well, as Anakin had taught her with a love and patience that no Jedi before her had ever known. Following its instruction without question, she leapt from the speeder bike as it flashed by the troopers, igniting her lightsaber in mid-flip. The dark, indigo-blue blade sprang to life, instantly taking the life of a trooper in a brilliant azure flash as she sailed over him and landed on the sand next to Shanda.

"It's about time you two got here," Shanda panted, glancing back over her shoulder at her aunt, a sly grin spreading slowly across her lips as the unfortunate trooper's body slumped to the ground. "I was beginning to wonder if you were coming at all."

"Don't be silly," Padmé replied, as she brought her weapon up in front of her and glared at the remaining troopers that circled them, their weapons held tight to their white-clad shoulders with trembling, black-gloved hands. "You didn't really think your uncle and I would leave you here to handle all this by yourself now, did you?"

"Oh, I don't know," Shanda quipped, as her and Padmé's eyes met for a brief instant.

"Twelve against one doesn't seem like terribly bad odds to me," she said, turning her gaze back toward the troopers as, with a quick, effortless motion, she turned a blaster bolt back into the chest of the trooper who'd fired it, sending him crashing back onto the sand, a huge, smoking hole in his chestplate.

"Make that eleven," Shanda corrected, struggling to push back the pain in her shoulder as she spun her uncle's old blade nimbly at her side.

"You take those four," Padmé replied, her long, brown bangs swinging loosely over her eyes as she nodded toward the troopers closest to her niece; Shanda smiled, as she saw Tatooine's setting suns glint brightly off the strands of silver that wove their way through Padmé's hair, they and the faint lines that adorned the corners of her eyes the only visible sign of the years that had passed since she'd first known her.

"And I'll take these," she growled, as she turned her fierce brown eyes back toward the group of troopers closest to her, spinning her weapon gracefully in front of her as she took a step toward them.

They recoiled, taking a step back for every one she took, as the sand crunched loudly under her dark brown boots. She could sense the fear and trepidation of the troopers as they backed away, and she would have readily admitted that it gave her nothing short of a profound sense of satisfaction, to see the Emperor's finest troops cowering in fear before her and Shanda, two lone Jedi, both shining examples of the ones they'd been commissioned to destroy.

Lana raised herself up on her elbows, her eyes wide with shock and amazement; she started to cry out in fear, as she saw one of the troopers discharge his weapon at her mother, but her voice caught in her throat as she watched the quiet, peaceful woman she'd known all of her life swing the powerful weapon up, with a grace and beauty that rivaled Padmé's itself, and send the brilliant orange burst of energy harmlessly into the coarse gold sand.

"No more running," Padmé growled, her weapon flashing as brightly as her eyes as she and Shanda both bolted toward the frightened troopers as they began to fire wildly at the two Jedi Knights. "Ever!" she shouted, as she spun around with lighting speed and brought her weapon down hard on the one closest to her.

* * *

><p>Anakin didn't need to look back over his shoulder to know what Padmé was doing; he felt, rather than saw, Padmé land safely beside his niece, and he could sense her actions, feel her every move, as he reached down and placed his hand on the bike's main control circuitry. His long blond hair flapped violently in the hot wind as he looked back up toward the large Imperial transport, his eyes narrow, his brow deeply furrowed, as he quickly judged the distance and rate that he was closing on it.<p>

Or, perhaps, felt was a better choice of word; the days of his youth spent podracing for Watto had been time well spent indeed, even if they had placed his young life in peril more times than any one person should ever have to endure in a lifetime. The reflexes and abilities he'd honed on the race courses, with his life hanging on their precision and accuracy, were serving him as well now as they had then.

He had never been more grateful for his Force-given affinity with machines, or for the years spent in his workshop repairing ones just like the one he now controlled. In an instant, he reached into the living Force with all of his might, quickly sensing the ignition and steering circuitry inside the bike; a quick flick of his fingers, and the bike's controls went dark, its engine locked into an ear-splitting whine as the plasma injectors worked more furiously than they had ever been designed to run.

The bike could no longer be stopped or controlled. It was locked into its course, and Anakin looked up again, his muscles tensing, as he settled his boots firmly onto the footpads and, with a mighty leap, flung himself clear of it, just as a frantic trooper leapt from the transport's entry ramp toward the hot, barren sand below.

He groaned as he struck the hard, unforgiving sand only seconds before the bike smashed into the transport like a missile, exploding on contact. He rolled several times, instinctively shielding his head with his arms as shards of hot durasteel peppered the barren sand around him, and then leapt to his feet just in time to see the burning hulk drop onto the desert floor with a deafening crash.

He knew that Padmé was holding her own, as was Shanda, and he bolted across the sand toward the burned out hulk of a nearby vaporator a short distance from the house, as he saw Owen struggling with the trooper who'd dived for safety only seconds before his speeder had demolished the transport. Owen was a strong man, much stronger than Anakin was, and he was flailing the trooper mercilessly with an object he'd retrieved from the nearby sand; yet, he was a farmer, not a warrior, and Anakin used all of the speed that the Force had given him as he raced toward him, intent on stopping Owen before his stepbrother did something foolish.

Padmé spun her weapon so quickly that its indigo blue blade appeared to stretch like brilliant, liquid light in front of her; the elegant weapon caught the laser blasts that surged toward her, sending the angry bursts of energy into the chests of two of the three remaining troopers. She snapped her head around behind her, her long brown hair tossing wildly in the hot desert wind, just in time to see Shanda drop to her knee and fling Anakin's old lightsaber at the third, its brilliant blue blade whirling like a pinwheel across the sand.

Obi-Wan had never mastered the move, but Shanda had learned it well from her uncle Anakin. Padmé watched as the trooper tried with all of his might to dodge the deadly missile, but to no avail; she grimaced as, with a terrible hiss and a puff of crimson mist, the weapon sliced the man cleanly in half before arcing back toward Shanda's outstretched hand, drawn by the Force that flowed through her.

Shanda leapt back up to her feet, the sleeves of her sandy brown tunic flapping in the breeze as wildly as her dusky red hair as she snatched the weapon from the air, and then turned quickly as she and Padmé turned their attention toward the only angry sound that remained, as the last body hit the ground with a muffled thud. They watched in silence, both of them panting like racing banthas, as Anakin suddenly caught Owen's arm as his stepbrother raised it high over his head again, his angry shouts filling the desert air around them.

"Owen!" Anakin cried, wrapping his free arm tightly around his brother's chest as he caught his angry blow short of its target. "He's dead, Owen," Anakin said, struggling to hold back Owen's powerful, angry blows as he cried out again, his eyes wide and wild, as he tried to bring his makeshift weapon down on the trooper's bloody body again.

"Owen!" Anakin shouted, wrapping his fingers tightly around Owen's wrist as he stopped him yet again; his gaze softened, as did his grip, as Owen suddenly relaxed as his eyes finally focused on Anakin's familiar face.

"It's okay, Owen, it's over," Anakin sighed, nodding his head as he shook his stepbrother gently. "They're dead, all of them," he said, turning and nodding toward the trooper's lifeless body as Owen followed his gaze. "You got him," he said, nodding his head as Owen took a deep, ragged breath, as the adrenaline that coursed through his veins slowly began to subside.

"You're- you're damn right I did," Owen panted, a smile spreading across his bearded face as Anakin smiled back at him and squeezed his shoulder tightly. It wasn't until he looked up at the object in his hand, though, that the smile slowly faded from his face, and his color began to change to a ghostly shade of pale.

"It's okay, Owen," Anakin said, as he watched Owen drop the severed, bloody arm, still encased in its white armor, onto the sand beside him and stumble backwards; Anakin caught him, just as he fell backwards toward the hot, coarse sand.

"Just sit here a minute, okay?" Anakin panted, nodding his head as he watched Owen turn his ghostly pale face back up toward him and nod, very slowly.

Padmé took a long, ragged breath of her own, as she watched Owen bow his head and sit quietly on the hot sand, with Anakin kneeling close beside him. Things were suddenly deafeningly quiet; the only sounds that remained were the quiet hums of their lightsabers, and the crackle of the flames that engulfed the Imperial transport that burned angrily a short distance from them.

Padmé and Shanda snapped their heads around, and their weapons up defensively, as Beru and Sola suddenly charged out of the stairwell into the blistering Tatooine sunlight, each clutching blaster rifles tightly in their trembling hands.

"Padmé!" Sola cried, a tone of relief clearly evident in her voice as she dropped the weapon onto the sand beside her. Padmé touched the igniter of her weapon and dropped it into the sand near her boots, spinning around quickly as she suddenly heard the soft trembling voice that called to her a short distance behind her.

"M- Mother?" Lana called, her voice trembling as her bright green eyes found her mother's gaze. "Mother?" she said again, her brow furrowing in shocked disbelief, as she watched Padmé race to her side and drop to her knees in the sand beside her. "Is- is it really you?" she said, placing a trembling hand on her mother's blood-spattered cheek.

"Yes, baby," Padmé said, her own eyes glistening brightly as she slipped her hand behind her daughter's shoulders and lifted her up into her arms. "It's me," she said, gently brushing Lana's disheveled hair from her face as she smiled down at her. "It's me, I'm here," she said, as she watched the tears well up in her youngest's eyes.

"Stay with me, sweetheart," Padmé whispered, nodding her head as she watched her daughter blink her bright green eyes, very slowly; she was going into shock, and she patted Lana's cheek gently, trying to keep her from slipping away. "Daddy and I are here. Everything's going to be okay now, I promise."

Padmé felt a lump rising in her own throat, as she sensed the incredible array of emotions that tore at her baby girl's heart. "Wow," Lana sighed softly, shaking her head in disbelief as she looked up at her, her tear-filled eyes beginning to glaze over as the blackness began to close in on her from the edges.

"Mother?" Lana sighed again, taking Padmé's hand in hers and squeezing it tightly as Padmé's face began to fade into the blackness that closed in around her. "Mother... I wanted... I wanted to tell you…"

Padmé was spared from having to come up with a coherent response, as she suddenly felt her daughter's tremor begin to grow weaker by the second. "Lana!" Padmé cried, her own eyes filling with tears as Lana's eyes suddenly rolled back in her head, just as Anakin and Shanda dropped onto the sand beside them. "Lana!" she cried again, catching her daughter's limp body as, with one last sigh, she fell unconscious into her mother's arms.

* * *

><p>Padmé flung the door to the old bedroom open; she reached into the Force and, with a quick Force push, shoved the chair that stood between her and the bed into the corner with a bang, and then whipped her cloak from her shoulders.<p>

It was instinct, and a memory from long past that had instantly drawn her to the familiar old room. "Put her here, Ani," she said anxiously, as she flung the heavy, dark brown garment across the chair and cast her worried eyes back to her husband, as he turned sideways and carefully made his way through the narrow doorway, their daughter's unconscious body limp in his arms.

"Be careful," she cautioned, placing her hand on the crown of Lana's head protectively as Anakin maneuvered her through the doorway, past the bedpost, and toward the bed; she still hadn't moved, not since she'd collapsed a good three or four minutes ago, and Padmé was on the verge of panic.

"I will, don't worry," Anakin replied with a nod, making a conscious effort to keep his voice as calm as he could; he knew how frightened and worried Padmé was, and he was doing his best to reassure her, to calm her, through their ever present bond. He knew, though, even as he watched Padmé turn and whip the bedspread back and bounce quickly across the bed to the other side, that he was just as worried as she was.

"Is she okay?" Sola asked, quite frantically, as she and Shanda made their way through the doorway into the old bedroom to join them.

"She'll be fine," Anakin replied, as he carefully placed his daughter's limp body on the old mattress that had once, long ago, belonged to his mother. "She's just in shock," he sighed, sitting down beside her and gently brushing her dark brown hair from her face as Padmé sat down on the other side of the bed. "I guess it was all just a little too much for her."

Padmé turned her worried eyes up toward Beru, as did the others, as she heard her strong voice. "Clear the way, you two," she said, quite firmly, as she made her way quickly past Shanda and Sola, a tray of supplies balanced carefully in her strong, weathered hands.

"Here, Padmé," Beru said, quickly placing the tray on the small table near her and wringing out a cool, damp cloth, then handing it to her. "This ought to help. Sometimes the simplest things are the best things to start with."

"Thanks, Beru," Padmé said gratefully, turning her gaze and attention quickly back to her daughter. "You know," she sighed, as she tenderly wiped the cool cloth across Lana's forehead, "It doesn't seem like so long ago that I was the one on this bed, and you were taking care of me."

"No, it doesn't," Beru half-laughed, half-sighed, as she placed her hand gently on Padmé's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "At least she's not hurt like you were, though," she said, as their eyes met for a moment. "And if I remember right," she said, smiling and nodding at Anakin as he sat quietly at his daughter's side, "he looked just about as scared then as he does now."

Anakin smiled, albeit a little weakly, as he and Padmé exchanged a long, quiet glance.

"Yes, he did," Padmé whispered, returning his smile as her heart heard the quiet message he willed to her. "I know, baby," she sighed again, as she gazed quietly into his troubled blue eyes for a long moment, and then turned her gaze back to her daughter, as she placed the cool cloth back on Lana's forehead.

"Anakin's right, she'll be fine," Beru said, watching as Padmé went back to caring for her daughter. "She just needs a little time to take all of this in. She's had quite a shock, after all," she sighed, shaking her head as she folded her arms across her tunic and walked toward the foot of the bed where Sola and Shanda stood quietly.

"A bunch of them, big ones," Sola sighed, holding herself tightly as she gazed worriedly at Lana's unconscious face. "I don't know how she managed to hold up this long."

"What happened, Sola?" Anakin asked, as he, and everyone but Padmé, turned their attention to her immediately. "What are you two doing here, anyway?" he asked, his eyebrow raising a bit, a slight, very faint, tone of rebuke in his voice. "You're supposed to be on Naboo."

"It's a long story, Anakin," Sola sighed, a confused, apologetic look on her face. "Somehow, and don't ask me how," she said, shrugging her shoulders as she spoke, "she figured everything out, and she just panicked."

"Kayko knows more than I do, to be honest," Sola continued, nodding toward the slender silver droid that sat quietly in the adjacent room. "Maybe it'd be better if we let Padmé take care of Lana for a while, while the rest of us talk, and I'll try to tell you everything."

Anakin knew that Sola had heard the faint, angry tone in his voice, and he regretted that he'd allowed it to slip; he nodded his head, very slowly, and then turned his gaze back to his wife. "Will you be okay here alone for a few minutes?" he asked, reaching over and squeezing her hand gently.

Padmé squeezed his hand in reply. "Yes," she said with a nod, never taking her eyes from her daughter as she spoke. "I'll call you if I need you, I promise."

"All right, then," Anakin sighed, letting her hand slip free of his as he stood up and walked to the foot of the bed where Beru, Sola and Shanda stood quietly, the sound of his boots echoing crisply off the clean duraplast walls. "We need to go check on Owen, anyway," he said, motioning toward the door as they all nodded in agreement. "Let's go see if we can figure out how all of this happened, and then," he sighed, "we'll see if we can figure out what we need to do next."

Anakin followed Sola and Beru to the doorway; he paused, turning his attention back to Shanda, as he suddenly heard her worried, quiet voice.

"Uncle Ani?" she asked, a worried look on her lovely young face as she reached up and tucked a lock of her disheveled, rusty-red hair behind her ear. "Can I stay just a minute?

There's something I want to tell Aunt Padmé," she said, watching quietly as her aunt and uncle exchanged a quiet glance.

"Sure," Anakin smiled, nodding his head. "But don't take too long," he said, glancing at the angry burns on the sleeve of her tunic and just below her hip. "Your mother needs to look at those burns- we don't want them to get infected."

"I won't," she smiled, and she watched quietly as Anakin smiled back at her, and then pulled the door closed behind him.

"He's so calm," Shanda sighed, shaking her head as she watched her uncle walk toward the living room to join the others, the two sabers that hung at his sides, in the vest Padmé had made for him so long ago, shining brightly against his dark tunic. "I don't know how he can stay so calm, with everything that's happened," she said, turning her bright eyes toward Padmé again.

"Hmmm," Padmé mused, a soft smile on her lips as she watched her tall, broad- shouldered husband sit down on the couch beside Owen. "Yes, he is," she said, turning her gaze toward Shanda as she walked quietly over and sat down on the other side of the bed, where Anakin had been sitting only a moment before. "But he wasn't always like that," she said, shaking her head, as she watched Shanda reach over and rub Lana's arm gently, a deeply worried look on her face.

"I remember a time when he was much, much different," Padmé sighed, rinsing out the small cloth in the bowl of cool water Beru had left. "But I was different too, back then," she said, as she wrung the cloth out thoroughly, shook it gently, and then turned back to her daughter again. "We all were," she sighed, as she gently wiped the cloth over Lana's face.

"He always has been, as long as I've known him," Shanda said quietly, as she remembered the first time she'd seen him, in the Temple, so long ago. "He and Master Obi-Wan were the only thing that kept me from giving up that night," she whispered, as she brushed her hand lightly over Lana's sleeve.

"I'm so sorry, Aunt Padmé," she whispered, her voice barely audible, as she shook her head slowly, her shaggy red mane flowing around her shoulders as she did so. "I'm so very sorry."

Padmé's heart began to ache, as she sensed how troubled Shanda was. "Sorry?" she asked in disbelief, placing the cloth on Lana's forehead, lowering her hands to her lap as she sat up. "Sorry for what? You haven't done anything," she said, as she watched Shanda close her eyes for a moment.

"What's wrong, Shanda?" she asked quietly, as Shanda opened her eyes again and stared quietly at Lana, as she lay unconscious on the bed.

"I screamed at her," Shanda said, her voice trembling as she squeezed Lana's arm gently.

"I was just trying to protect her, but I'll never forget that look in her eyes when I screamed at her," she said, turning her tear-filled eyes back up to Padmé's. "Or when I threw her clear of the fighting."

"You did what you had too, Shanda," Padmé replied, reaching over and squeezing Shanda's arm tightly. "Lana was confused, disoriented," she said, shaking her head firmly. "She didn't know what she was doing. If you hadn't been there to protect her, then she might have..."

Padmé stopped, mid-sentence, turning her gaze back to her daughter again, unable to bear or finish that thought. "I may have already lost one of my girls," she whispered, her voice trembling as she fought back the stark reality, and the fear, of the fate that may have befallen her eldest daughter.

Shanda's own heart cried out, as she saw the tears that stood in Padmé's eyes. "And if it hadn't been for you," she whispered, smiling as best she could, "I might have lost another, and I don't know what I'd have done if..."

"We'll find Leia, Aunt Padmé," Shanda said, nodding her head firmly as a tear rolled slowly down her own cheek. "I promise you, we'll find her."

Shanda watched quietly, as Padmé sniffed and swallowed hard, then reached over and squeezed her hand tightly. "You'd better go help your uncle," she said, turning a weak smile back up to her again. "Obi-Wan and Luke will be here in a few minutes, and they're going to need your help to figure all of this out."

They gazed at each other quietly for a moment, and then, with a reluctant nod and a long glance at her unconscious little cousin, Shanda stood up and started toward the door.

"Thank you, Shanda," Padmé said softly, watching as Shanda stopped near the doorway and turned her eyes back toward her again. "Thank you so, so much," she said, as, with a reassuring nod, she turned her eyes back to Lana again.

Shanda watched her quietly for a long moment, as she carefully tended to her daughter, with all of the patience and love that she'd come to expect from her; then, with a long, resolved sigh, Shanda turned and made her way out toward the living room, where the others waited quietly for her.

Shanda reached under the back of her tunic; she wrapped her hand tightly around the hilt of her uncle's old weapon, the one she'd used just moments ago, rolling it over slowly in her hand as she shifted her thoughts to Leia, and the deep feeling of despair she'd sensed in her aunt only seconds before.

They would find Leia, she thought to herself, tightening her grip on the saber in her hand as she made her way to join the others. And they would find her alive.

Her brow furrowed deeply, that deep rooted sense of rage brewing inside her again as she walked, her hair bouncing with her long strides. If she were otherwise when they found her, then what she'd done to those stormtroopers above would pale in comparison to what she'd do to whoever was responsible.

They'd better pray, she thought, squeezing the hilt of her weapon so tightly that her hand trembled, that she was alive when they found her. Or there'd be hell to pay.

* * *

><p>"Mom! Dad!" he shouted, as he leapt over the small pile of bodies that lay on the blood-stained platform at the top of the stairs.<p>

"Uncle Owen! Aunt Beru!" Luke shouted again, as he fairly well slid down the stairwell, his elbows gliding along the railing, as he raced down the old adobe stairs into the homestead; his heart pounded wildly in his chest, his feet barely touching every other step as he launched himself onto the platform at the base of the stairs.

He jumped, startled for a split second, as he felt two strong hands grab hold of his shoulders as he landed just inside the main living area; his fear subsided almost instantly, though, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief, as his eyes suddenly focused on his father's familiar face.

"It's okay, Luke," Anakin said calmly, watching his son as he glanced around the room, his eyes searching for the rest of their family. "Everybody's okay, we're all fine," he said, as he sensed the strong emotions that flowed to him from his son through the Force.

"What happened, Dad?" Luke asked, glancing back up the stairwell as he heard another pair of boots descending the stairs. "Ben and I got here just a minute ago, and we were scared to death," he said, gesturing back up the stairs toward the smoke-filled, body-strewn terrain above. "It looks like a war zone up there, there's bodies everywhere. How did..."

Anakin looked up over his son's shoulder, as he heard that familiar voice, the one that matched the tremor he'd sensed a few moments ago when its owner and Luke had arrived. "It seems your father's kept up with his exercises, just as he should have," Ben said, tossing the hood of his cloak back onto his shoulders, revealing his gray-streaked hair as he walked up to join them.

"A few stormtroopers were never a match for your father," he said, quickly surveying the room, breathing an almost audible sigh of relief as he turned an equally relieved smile back to his old padawan and his son. "Or for your mother, for that matter."

"We can thank Shanda for most of that," Anakin sighed quietly, nodding his head toward the couch where Shanda sat, tending to a rather nasty cut on Owen's hand. "There were only a handful left, and a few in the transport when Padmé and I got here," he said, both he and Ben looking back at Luke's awestruck, confused face.

"Shanda?" Luke gasped, as quietly as he could, as his father raised his fingers to his lips and frowned. "Are you telling me Shanda took out those troopers?" he whispered, the sense of awe and disbelief clearly evident in his voice.

"Luke," Anakin sighed, an equally exasperated expression on his face as he squeezed his son's shoulder tightly, "I'm afraid your mother and I aren't the only ones who have a few things to tell you," he said, directing his gaze toward his old master, with Luke's following close behind it.

"Figures," Luke sighed, a dazed, somewhat overwhelmed expression quickly overtaking his countenance. "The surprises just don't seem to stop coming today."

"Perhaps we should focus on the more urgent matter at hand, such as your sister, and what we're going to do to help her," Ben replied, placing his hand on Luke's shoulder and nudging him over toward the others. "We can talk more about other things a little later."

"Where's Mom?" Luke asked, his gaze and tone becoming a bit more frantic as he suddenly realized his mother was nowhere in sight.

"She's fine," Anakin replied, patting Luke's shoulder reassuringly as he gestured toward the small bedroom that lay beyond the living area. "Lana was a little shaken up when we first got here, and your mother's in there taking care of her right now."

"Is she all right?" Luke asked, stopping in his tracks again, having only taken a couple of small steps. "And what's she doing here, anyway? I thought you said she was home, with Aunt Sola."

Anakin turned his gaze toward Ben, an amused smile spreading slowly across his face, as he watched his old master walk slowly past them toward the center of the room where the others waited for them. "Just like his father," Ben mused, tossing an equally amused smile back over his shoulder toward his old padawan. "Impatient and full of questions."

"I'm still trying to figure a lot of this out myself, Luke," Anakin sighed, giving his son a gentle nudge toward the center of the room. "But, from what your Aunt Sola's told me so far," he sighed, as they walked over to join the others, "Your resourceful little sister stumbled across a few things we didn't really intend for her to find just yet, one thing led to another, and..."

Anakin paused, took a deep breath, and sighed deeply as his son looked up at him. "You know how tenacious and hardheaded she can be," he said, as he and Luke exchanged a sheepish grin.

"And persuasive, just like Mom," Luke said, nodding his head slowly as he watched his father turn his gaze toward the door to the bedroom across the way. "If she was bound and determined to come here," he continued, following his father's gaze to the old weathered door, "then Aunt Sola never stood a chance."

"Are they both okay?" Luke asked, a worried frown spreading over his face as he saw the deeply contemplative, somewhat worried expression on Anakin's face.

"Yeah," Anakin sighed again, snapping his attention back to Luke again; the deep range of emotions that flowed to him from beyond that door had mesmerized, and troubled him, for a brief moment. "We'll just let your mom and her spend a little quiet time together for the moment," he smiled, as he and Luke finally joined the others.

"Well, look who's back," Shanda said with a grin, as she looked up from the cut she was tending on Owen's hand to her cousin. "We were beginning to worry we'd never see you again."

"Not hardly," Luke sighed, walking slowly around the chair that stood between them and sitting down on the couch beside her. "You're not that lucky," he said, returning Shanda's grin; he looked at her, doing his best to conceal the shock and surprise that rose inside him as he saw the tiny droplets of blood that stained her face, and her clothes.

"Geez, Shanda," he sighed, as he caught sight of the angry burns on the arm of her tunic, and the leg of her pants. "What the hell happened to you?"

"It's a long story, little cousin," Shanda sighed, as she smiled at him, quite sheepishly, through her sand-strewn, disheveled hair, and then cinched the bandage tight around her father's outstretched palm.

"Ouch!" Owen exclaimed, wincing as he felt the bandage draw tight around the deep gash in his palm. "Easy, honey," he chided, frowning at his daughter as she jumped and quickly released the ends of the bandage she'd just fastened around his hand.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Dad," she said, deeply apologetic, as she gently loosened the bandage and secured it again, much more carefully this time. "I wasn't paying attention."

"So I noticed," Owen sighed, a grin slowly replacing the look of pain on his face.

"Well, Ben," Owen said, turning his gaze to the weathered old man who stood a short distance from him, "Long time no see. I see that Anakin didn't have any trouble finding you," he said, pausing a moment before he continued. "I'm glad to see you. It's been a long time, though, I wish the circumstances could have been a bit better."

"I'm just pleased to see that all of you are all right," Ben replied, sitting down across from him, tucking his long, worn brown cloak under him as he sat down and placed his hands on his knees.

"Well, we wouldn't be, if it hadn't been for my daughter," Beru interjected, walking back through the kitchen door to join them, a tray full of glasses and a pitcher of blue milk balanced carefully on the tray in her hands. "She'd have made you proud, Ben," she said, glancing over at Shanda with a smile as she walked past her and placed the tray on the table between them. "Those worthless bastards never had a chance."

"And she tells me to watch my language," Owen sighed, shaking his head as he and Shanda exchanged an amused glance.

Shanda looked up at her old master and smiled, as she saw him gazing proudly at her from his seat across from her. "Well, she always did," Ben replied, nodding his head approvingly at her.

"Thank you, Master Obi-Wan," Shanda replied, a grateful smile on her grimy, blood-spattered face.

"Shanda was once my apprentice, just like your father," Ben replied, turning his gaze toward Luke as he caught sight of the bewildered, befuddle look on the lad's face. "And they were more alike than you'd think, in a lot of ways," he said, as he watched Anakin sit down in the chair between them.

Anakin smiled, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, as he heard Shanda's reply. "Well, I'll take that as a compliment, regardless of how you meant it, Master," she said, smiling slyly as she kept her eyes and attention focused on her father's hand, snipping away the last few tag ends of the bandage she'd just secured.

"Alright, we can all wax poetic later," Anakin sighed, as they all turned their attention back to him. Shanda watched him quietly as, without a word, he reached over and picked up his old light saber that lay beside her on the couch, the one she'd used a short while before, and looked at it for a long moment, turning it over slowly in his hands.

"First things first," he said finally, his striking blue eyes quickly surveying his family as he leaned back in his chair, his countenance deeply serious. "Let's talk about what we're going to do to save my daughter."

* * *

><p><em>Lana turned her tear-filled eyes up to her mother. <em>

"_Oh, Mother, it hurts," she cried, as she gingerly pulled her knee up closer to her, instinctively placing her hands over the nasty cut she'd received only a moment before._

_She was six years old, and her mother had warned her, many times, about walking along the top of her grandmother's narrow garden wall. But, even though she'd known better, her adventurous spirit, and a little urging from her older brother and sister, had coaxed her up there yet again, and this time she'd taken a rather nasty tumble from the four-foot tall wall down to the hard flagstone walk below._

"_No, no, don't touch it," Padmé replied, as she quickly but gently grabbed Lana's dirty hands before they managed to touch the freshly cleaned wound. "I know it hurts, honey," she said, reaching over and picking up the small vial of anticeptic spray from the first aid kit she'd brought with her, when Leia had come running to fetch her. "This is going to sting a bit, but it should make it feel better in a second or two," she said, watching as Lana bit her lip and nodded warily, a steady stream of tears streaking down her dirty, grimy face._

_It was moments like this when Padmé wished, at times, that the Force had chosen to give her another gift, rather than the one of empathy she'd received; she'd felt her daughter's pain the instant she'd fallen, and was already on her way to retrieve the first aid kit she'd used many, many times with her twins before Leia had even made it to the house._

"_It's not our fault, Mom," Leia said, worriedly, and a bit defensively, as she watched her mother raise her eyebrow and look up at her, and her brother, as they stood a short distance behind her, watching. "She WANTED to climb up there, honest." _

"_We'll talk in a few minutes, young lady," Padmé replied, her sharp gaze drawing a hard swallow from her eldest daughter, as she folded her hands quietly in front of her and dropped her gaze, nodding slowly. "You know she's not supposed to be up there, and I've told you time and time again that it's YOUR responsibility to look after your sister when you're out here, haven't I?" _

"_Yes, ma'am," Leia replied, soft and sullenly, as Luke cowered silently beside her. He knew, only too well, that making excuses to his mother was a useless gesture, and he watched quietly as she turned her attention back to Lana again and shook the small vial in her hand vigorously._

_Padmé winced, as she felt Lana's pain travel back to her through the Force as she applied the biting, stinging spray to the cut on her knee. She remembered, all too well, how bad this stuff burned, the night Anakin had first used it on her wounded shoulder that cold, Tatooine night._

"_Owwwww!" Lana cried, instinctively trying to grab her wounded knee again; she would have succeeded, yet her own lighting quick reflexes were no match for her mother's, and Padmé's strong hands caught hers well short of her target._

"_I'm so sorry, honey," Padmé said sympathetically, holding tightly to Lana's wrists as her daughter cried out and writhed in pain. "Just hold on a second, it'll get better soon, I promise." _

_Padmé smiled, as she felt the pain begin to subside a bit, and Lana slowly opened her tear-filled eyes. "See?" she said, reaching over and gently wiping away a few of her daughter's tears as Lana's sobs began to subside a bit. "Better already, isn't it?"_

"_Ye- yes," Lana sobbed, her voice catching in her throat as she took a long, halting breath._

"_You know you weren't supposed to be up there in the first place," Padmé scolded, glancing up at her daughter through the dark hair that hung over her eyes as she knelt in front of her, quickly applying a suture pack and closing the angry little cut. "You're going to have a lot of explaining to do when your father gets home," she sighed, shaking her head slowly as she gently wiped away the remaining blood on Lana's knee. The suture pack was doing its job, and the bleeding was beginning to stop._

"_All of you," she said, turning a cold, serious frown up to her two eldest children. "Especially you two," she said; she was frowning on the outside, but inside, she could help but be a bit amused at the sheepish looks on their faces as the glanced over at one another in silence._

"_I know," Lana sighed, nodding her head jerkily, as she considered how unhappy her father was going to be with her for disobeying her mother. It was the one thing she feared worse than the pain she'd felt a second or two before; not any punishment that Anakin or Padmé would meet out, but the disappointment that she knew her father would feel at learning of her disobedience._

"_I- I told Leia to hu- hurry and get you, because it was hurting really bad," Lana stammered, reaching up and wiping her eyes on her arm as the welcome sense of relief finally began to overwhelm the pain. "I- I knew that you could ma- make it better." _

"_Of course I can," Padmé smiled, her gaze softening as she caressed her cheek once again, and then began to apply a fresh bandage to her daughter's knee; she could sense her daughter's tremor, and the warm feeling of trust and love that traveled back to her through it. "I always make it better," she said, as she and Lana exchanged a smile. "And I always will."_

It was the soft touch of her mother's hand on her cheek that finally roused her from her dream. She opened her eyes, very slowly, and returned the soft smile that greeted her.

"There's my girl," Padmé sighed, the sense of relief that overwhelmed her clearly evident in her voice as she gently caressed her daughter's cheek. "How are you feeling, baby?" she asked, as she slid a bit closer to her.

Lana closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. "Okay, I think," she said, her gentle voice as soft as her mother's smile as she looked back up at her. "I'm... I'm a little dizzy," she said, sticking her tongue out between her teeth and closing her eyes again.

Padmé's brow furrowed a bit as she sensed her daughter's familiar tremor; she'd felt it all of her life, even before Lana was born, when she was still growing in her womb, yet she'd never felt it as strongly as she did now.

Anakin had been right, she thought to herself, just as she'd known he was. Lana's abilities were growing and changing, just like her body, and she could sense two awakenings, the one that worked to transform her into a young woman, and the one that struggled to awaken the Force within her.

"That's normal, sweetheart," Padmé replied, placing the cool cloth she'd just refreshed on her daughter's forehead again. "I've only fainted a few times in my life," she said, smiling down at her daughter as she rested herself on her arm and leaned closer to her, gently brushing Lana's dark brown hair out of her eyes with her free hand. "It made me feel sick for at least a day, every time it happened."

"It's not the fainting that's making me dizzy," Lana replied softly; Padmé's gaze softened again, as she watched Lana glance over toward the door, far past it, toward the room that lay beyond. "I can feel them, everything," she said softly, turning a worried, uncertain gaze back up to her mother as Padmé took her hand and squeezed it gently.

Padmé listened quietly, her heart pounding in her chest, as her daughter closed her eyes again. "Shanda's shoulder hurts, and her leg," she said, her voice trembling softly as she spoke, a deep frown slowly crossing her face. "It burns, really bad, but she's trying not to think about it."

"Uncle Owen's hand is hurt, too," she continued, as Padmé closed her eyes and reached into the Force around her, confirming, with each and every word, every sensation that her daughter described to her. "He's worried about Shanda, but he's not saying anything, because he doesn't want to worry Aunt Beru."

"Daddy's here, and he's worried about you, and me," Lana said, her voice trembling more as she squeezed her mother's hand tighter and tighter with each passing second. "Luke's scared too, he's really, really scared, and worried about Leia," she said, shaking her head as she struggled to push back the overwhelming array of emotions and sensations.

Padmé's own eyes jerked open, in concert with Lana's; her heart ached, and she reached down and placed her hand tenderly on her daughter's cheek as she saw the tears that stood in her eyes. "I'm scared, Mother," Lana whispered, shaking her head slowly. "Why am I feeling all of this?"

"There's nothing to be scared of, baby," Padmé whispered, her own eyes glistening brightly as she smiled softly back at her youngest daughter. "What you're feeling is just a part of a very precious gift you've been given," she said softly.

"I know it's new, and it's a little frightening," she said, nodding her head slowly as Lana gazed up at her quietly. "But you have to trust me," Padmé said softly, as her eyes searched her daughters quietly for a moment. "You'll understand all of this, in time. I promise."

"I'm just so, so sorry we never told you any of this, a long, long time ago," she sighed, shaking her head slowly, casting her gaze back down toward the floor again.

"You mean, about you being Queen of Naboo, and Daddy being a Jedi?" she asked, shaking her head gently, a confused, befuddled look on her young face.

"Much more than that, baby," Padmé replied; she paused, as she helped Lana sit up a bit, and tucked the pillow behind her. "Here," she said, handing Lana the glass of water that rested on the table beside them. "Drink this," she said, watching carefully as Lana nodded, and took a long, thirsty sip.

"Not too much too fast, though," Padmé cautioned, as Lana cut her bright green eyes back to her again and lowered her glass. "We don't want you getting sick to your stomach."

"Lana," Padmé asked, as her daughter lowered her glass to her lap and leaned back against the pillow behind her, listening with rapt attention, "How much do you know about the Jedi Knights?"

"Not much," Lana replied, shrugging her shoulders gently. "It's hard to find out much about them. I know that they were once servants of the Republic Senate," she said, gazing up at her mother as Padmé nodded her head slowly. "They were peacekeepers of some kind, from what Kayko and I have been able to find out from the databanks we were-"

"Oops," she said, watching the sly smile that spread slowly across Padmé's face as her eyebrow suddenly shot up curiously. "I shouldn't have said that, should I?" she said, grinning sheepishly back at her mother as she realized what she'd just let slip.

"Sooo," Padmé replied slowly, folding her arms across her chest. "You and that little droid of yours have been hacking into the university databases again, haven't you?"

"Just a little," Lana said, slowly pressing herself back into the pillow behind her as she realized she had nowhere else to go. "I didn't mean to find that picture, or Daddy's old light saber," she blurted, as apologetically as she could, as she tried to explain what she'd done. "It's just when I saw that picture, and I knew it was you, I just had to know what was going on, especially since Leia was in trouble and all, and-"

"It's okay, honey," Padmé said softly, squeezing Lana's arm gently as she cut her off mid- sentence. "I know why you did it, and what you and Kayko were doing," she said, smiling as she saw the look of relief that filled Lana's face as she closed her eyes and sighed deeply.

"Although, I must admit," she sighed, shaking her head as she turned her gaze to the doorway across from them, "I don't know how in the world you found out what you did, considering those records were destroyed long ago."

"Oh, it was easy," Lana blurted, somewhat excitedly, as she reached down into her pocket; Padmé watched, with a growing sense of amusement, as Lana produced a familiar shiny, octagonal data disc and plopped into her mother's outstretched palm. "The passcode that Daddy used was really easy to find, once I saw the clue he left behind," she said, her smile widening a bit. "I felt like he almost wanted me to find it."

"Knew you would, is probably more like it," Padmé snorted, staring at the disc in her hand with a smile. "I wouldn't be a bit surprised if he did know that you'd find it someday," she said softly, looking up at the doorway fondly as she sensed his tremor from the next room.

Padmé looked back at Lana, as she heard her speak again. "It's just so hard to believe that Daddy was a Jedi," she said, shaking her head slowly, a deeply thoughtful look on her young face.

"Excuse me," Padmé interjected, her own smile widening a bit as Lana looked back at her again, sweeping the edge of her cloak back as she spoke, "but your father wasn't the only Jedi in your family."

Lana looked at Padmé quietly for a second, a bit confused; her mouth fell open in disbelief, however, as her eyes focused on the shiny, slender weapon that hung on the belt at Padmé's waist, and the memory of what she'd seen her mother do, just before she blacked out, suddenly flashed back into her tired, overwhelmed young mind.

"You- you're a Jedi, too?" she gasped in amazement, as Padmé chuckled quietly to herself at the look of awestruck wonder that overtook her daughter's face.

"And your cousin Shanda, and Ben Kenobi, too," Padmé replied, nodding her head slowly as Lana's eyes grew wide with wonder at the sight of the weapon that hung on her mother's narrow waist.

"But- but I thought that the Jedi Knights turned against the Republic and destroyed it," Lana stammered, trying desperately to make sense of what her senses, her mind, and her heart were telling her.

"Lana," Padmé replied, shaking her head firmly, "You mustn't believe what you've read in the archives and at the library about the Jedi Knights," she said, watching her daughter as she nodded her head slowly in reply; she was listening with a hunger that Padmé had become all too familiar with, completely mesmerized, soaking up every word that left her lips, so Padmé was careful to choose her words wisely. She knew, from the experience she'd amassed years ago, that first impressions were difficult to overcome, if they came off badly.

"When I was Queen of Naboo, long, long ago," Padmé sighed, as she leaned back on her arms beside Lana, her thoughts drifting back to those days long past, "the Jedi Knights were the servants of peace and justice in the Republic."

"The first Jedi I ever met came to my rescue, when the Trade Federation tried to enslave and overthrow our planet," she said, slowly turning her gaze back to her daughter again. "With their help, we were able to stop the viceroy and his droid army and free our people," she said, pausing as she saw Lana's mouth drop open again.

"That was you?" Lana whispered, awestruck, as Padmé smiled and nodded in reply.

"Yes, that was me," she chuckled softly, as she reached over and brushed her fingers gently through Lana's bangs again. "And all this time you thought your mother was just an old homebody who managed your father's business in her spare time," she giggled, her heart warming at the awestruck smile on her daughter's face.

"Anyway," she sighed, turning her gaze back toward the floor again, "If it weren't for Master Qui-Gon, and Master Kenobi," she said, nodding toward the doorway again, "None of us would be here now," she said, turning her gaze back to her daughter again. "Not even you."

"Master Kenobi?" Lana asked, shaking her head slowly in disbelief. "You mean, old Mister Kenobi, the one who comes to visit Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru sometimes?"

"Yes," Padmé replied, with a firm nod of her head. "When I first met Obi-Wan, as they called him back then," she said, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear as she spoke, "he was just a young man, not much older than your father was when he and I got married."

"Obi-Wan," Lana parroted, quietly, as she rolled the unusual name around in her head. "That's a strange name. I like Ben better," she quipped, a smile spreading slowly across her face.

"We didn't start calling him Ben until a lot later, long after he'd become a Jedi Knight, or after your father had, for that matter," Padmé sighed, as she remembered when, long ago, Andar had bestowed the name upon him. "I never really got used to it, so I've always called him Obi-Wan," she said, as she and Lana exchanged a grin. "Ben just never felt right to me."

"Anyway, several years later, when I was a Senator in the Republic," Padmé continued, "a man named Chancellor Palpatine, who was a senator from Naboo back when I was serving as Queen, turned on us," she interjected, her own mind reeling at the sinister perfection of Palpatine's plan. "He betrayed the Republic, and all of us who served in it, everyone who was working for peace. The Jedi Knights," Padmé said, her tone growing sorrowful as she remembered that horrible day so long ago, "were the only thing that stood between him and his plans."

Lana listened, with the ravenous hunger of a bantha that'd been wandering the wastes for days, as her mother pulled back the dark veil that the Empire had placed over the galaxy's past. "He used a clone army that had been commissioned for the Republic to betray and murder the Jedi Knights," Padmé said softly, her eyes searching Lana's as she sensed the thick, heady array of emotions that overtook her daughter as the truth slowly revealed itself.

"Only a handful of them escaped the death squads, or the bounty hunters that the Emperor sent after them," she said, watching as Lana sat there, awestruck, listening quietly as Padmé took her hand and squeezed it gently. "Your father, and a few others, were the only ones who survived."

"Were you a Jedi then, too, Mother?" Lana asked quietly, as she squeezed her mother's hand in return.

"No," Padmé laughed, very softly, tracing her fingers slowly over the back of Lana's hand as she held it tenderly in her own. "I'd left the Senate, and your father was on leave from the Order, when all of this happened," she said, looking back at Lana with a soft, thoughtful smile.

"Aunt Sola told me a little about all this," Lana said, perking up rather quickly as she sat up on the bed, leaning a bit closer to Padmé. "She said that you and Daddy fell in love, and you both gave up everything to be together."

"We gave up nothing to be together, and don't you ever assume otherwise," Padmé replied, smiling softly as she shook her head. "Your father and I loved each other so much that nothing else mattered," she said, as Lana smiled back at her. "Not until you, and your brother and sister, came along."

"Your brother and sister were born the day after Chancellor Palpatine and his clone army destroyed the Jedi Temple," Padmé said, gazing back at their clasped hands again.

"Aunt Sola said that you went to Mustafar looking for Daddy, and that you got hurt and you almost died," Lana replied, nodding her head slowly as Padmé looked up at her again. "Is that true?"

"Yes," Padmé whispered, her eyes tearing up a bit as she remembered that painful day, long ago. "It is, sweetheart," she sighed, reaching up and dabbing gently at the corner of her eye. "And if it hadn't been for your father, I wouldn't have made it, and neither would Luke and Leia," she said.

"It wasn't until after they were born that I became your father's padawan, and started my training as a Jedi," Padmé continued, smiling as she saw the bewildered look on her daughter's face return.

"Padawan?" Lana asked, as confused as ever.

"His student," Padmé laughed, watching as Lana nodded her head, finally grasping what she meant and putting meaning to this new word in her vocabulary. "Every Jedi starts out as a padawan, and they learn from the Jedi Knight that becomes their master."

"You were Daddy's student, then," Lana said, clearly fascinated by every single word that her mother was sharing with her. "What kind of things did he teach you?"

"The same kind of things we'll teach Luke, and Leia," Padmé replied, nodding her head slowly as her eyes, and her smile, met Lana's again. "And you."

"Me?" Lana gasped, looking back at her mother with an awestruck gaze. "You mean, I'm- I'm going to be a Jedi?"

"That all depends on you, and the Force, sweetheart," Padmé smiled, nodding her head slowly as she gazed fondly at her, squeezing her hand gently.

"The Force?" Lana asked, quite curiously, shaking her head, her long brown hair tossing around her shoulders as she did so. "What's the Force, Mother? I don't know what you're talking about."

Lana's brow lifted, and she cocked her head curiously as she watched her mother close her eyes and laugh softly. "Yes you do," Padmé laughed, reaching over and caressing her daughter's cheek tenderly again. "Whether you know it or not, you do," she said, laughing again, as she watched Lana's confused expression deepen.

"So many questions," Padmé sighed, looking back at her daughter fondly as she stood up and took Lana's hands tightly in her own. "And I promise, we'll answer every one of them when we talk about all of this in a little while, with your father," she smiled.

"But now," she said, her expression growing quite serious and determined as Lana swung her feet over the side of the bed and looked up at her, "Let's go find your sister."

Padmé turned and started toward the door; she stopped, as she felt Lana tug gently on her hand. "Mother?" Lana said softly, as Padmé turned slowly toward her.

"Yes, Lana?" Padmé asked, as she watched her daughter gaze up at her quietly in the soft light.

"I know that it was really, really hard on you and Daddy, to have to hide all of this from us for so long," she said, reaching over and taking her mother's hand tightly in both of hers; Padmé felt tears begin to sting her eyes, as Lana's gaze met hers, and she listened silently as her daughter spoke again.

"I know you wanted to tell us all of this, and why you didn't," she said, smiling softly up at her, her bright green eyes glistening brightly from the tears that stood in them. "I just want you to know how much I love you, both you and Daddy," she said, her voice beginning to tremble as much as her lower lip as Padmé reached over and ran her hand gently over her dark brown hair.

"And I'm proud," she said, her voice catching in her throat as she watched a tear trickle slowly down Padmé's cheek. "So very, very proud to be your daughter."

Padmé tried to speak, but she couldn't; she wrapped her arms tightly around her baby girl, the one who was growing up so very quickly, in so many ways, and, for that brief, wondrous moment, she didn't know which of them was supporting the other.

And it didn't matter.

* * *

><p><em><strong>The Death Star<strong>_

_Deep space - near the Alderaan system_

Leia awoke suddenly, startled by the angry hiss of the cell door a few steps away from the hard metal slab she lay on. She hadn't slept much, or well, as it was impossible to do so on such a cold, uncomfortable piece of durasteel, yet she'd been dozing fitfully, just enough so that the loud hiss had startled her.

She glared up defiantly at the two white-clad stormtroopers that walked slowly into her cell.

"Don't they teach you any manners on this godforsaken hulk?" she shot back at them, sitting up slowly as they marched into her cell.

"I don't know where you were raised, but it's customary on my home planet to knock before you just barge into a lady's quarters," she spat, quite defiantly, as she reached up and rubbed her eyes sleepily. "Now if you don't mind, I'd really like to-"

Leia stopped, mid-sentence, as she suddenly felt that cold, vaguely familiar presence; she looked up, the defiant smirk on her face ebbing away almost as quickly as the terrible sense of foreboding that overtook her, as she watched the two troopers part and take their place on either side of the doorway, their weapons at station keeping across their chests.

She swallowed hard, as she felt an overwhelming sense of fear overtake her as the large, round probe droid floated slowly toward her through the doorway. Her eyes widened, with fear and apprehension, as they suddenly focused on the formidable looking syringe that hung suspended from the rack on its side, and she recoiled, as best she could, against the hard, unyielding durasteel wall behind her.

Yet, even as she glared at the loudly humming droid, which she knew full well had been designed for one purpose, and one purpose only, she realized that it wasn't the droid itself that struck terror into her heart. It was something else, darker, elusive, and she looked up, her heart pounding, as she saw a familiar figure step into the cell with her.

"Well, well, my dear," Asajj Ventress said, a rueful smile on her gaunt, ghastly pale face as she glared down at Leia. "What a pleasure to see you again," she said, her hollow, black eyes surveying her with dark satisfaction.

It was her eyes that frightened her, and Leia could feel her pulse racing as she looked into them; they were hollow, empty, almost lifeless... except for a hatred that, though she could not see it externally, she could feel burning behind them.

"Interestingly enough," Asajj said, quite nonchalantly, as she motioned toward one of the stormtroopers with a slim, gloved hand, "my examination of the other prisoners seems to have led me back to you."

Leia looked down, recoiling in vane as the troopers suddenly seized her by the arms, holding her fast on the cold, hard bench. "I don't know anything," Leia said, glaring back up at the Sith, watching as the pale skinned woman glared down at her. "I already told you..."

"Silence," Asajj snapped; she reached into one of the compartments on her belt, and extracted a small, plasticine cartridge. She held it up, examining it for a moment as she watched the clear liquid in it swirl, then settle. "We'll see what you do or don't know," she said, quite calmly, as she snapped the cartridge into the syringe. "I'm sorry, my dear," she said, looking down at Leia, feigned sadness on her gaunt, chiseled face. "But I'm afraid that this might hurt a bit."

"Hold her," she snapped, as Leia struggled for another moment, and then fell still as the probe's lights began to flash steadily. The sound of her own blood rushing through her ears, Leia watched, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps, as the probe began to drift slowly toward her.

Ventress turned her head toward the door, and with nothing more than a nod of her head, the door began to quickly close behind her; frightened and alone, captive on the cold, unforgiving bench of her cell, Leia closed her eyes and cried out, silently, to the only one who she could think of that could possibly help her at this moment, though she knew he was thousands of light years away.

"_Daddy," _the little girl cried silently and frantically, deep in her heart, the same little girl that still lived inside the brave young woman that now watched the probe droid inch closer and closer to her, as Asajj's cold, seemingly lifeless hand took hold of her arm. _"Daddy, please! Help me!" _


End file.
